Origins
by Apollo Racer
Summary: A man from the 21st century suffers a mishap and winds up over 200 years into the future.
1. Default Chapter

_PROLOGUE_

August 6, 2047: 

"All systems are go. Pushing it up to full throttle." 

"_Roger that, _Starfighter 1_. Full throttle._" 

The pilot gently eased forward the levers in his left hand. He felt his blood rush as the thrust vibrated through his very being. _God, I love this_, he thought to himself as he watched the planet's atmosphere fade away around him. He checked his instruments, sure that they would tell him what he wanted to know. They did. "Houston Control, this is _Starfighter 1_. I'm at full throttle and everything is A-OK." He looks around at the panoramic vista. "The view is fantastic up here." he exclaims. 

"_So they tell us_." Houston Control replied, sounding rather droll. The pilot laughed, knowing full well that every astronaut who ever went into orbit had said something along those lines. He knew because he was on the last shuttle flight, and a rookie specialist had said the same thing. "_Begin extraorbital tests. Oh, and Racer, one more thing. Don't scare the Martians, and leave the lunar boys alone. They're still trying to put the final touches on the base there_." 

Apollo laughed again. "That's two things, but I'll try to keep my mean streak under control. Switching propulsion modes now. I'll let you know later on happens." 

"_Roger. Houston out_." Apollo switched controls over and cracked his knuckles. He always did that when trying to break in some new system or other. He felt that it relieved tension. 

Switching controls was no laughing matter. The airfoils of the experimental new space plane wouldn't work in space, where there was no air pressure to provide lift. So he would have to rely on reaction control thrusters for maneuvering. In of themselves, they weren't that new; they were used on the shuttle. But they've never been used on a craft designed to be a fighter. The systems Apollo really wanted to test were the pulse cannons, mounted on the airfoils, and the drive system. According to specs, the drive should be able to push him to about one-half the speed of light. It'd certainly make putting bases on Mars all that much easier. 

Currently, he was traveling at one-quarter _c_, and should reach the moon in about one minute. Despite what he told Houston, he felt a mischievous grin crawl across his face. He laughed one of his horror movie laughs and sped towards the site where construction teams where building the lunar outpost. 

Harvey was watching three men place a docking ring on their main dome. Today, if all went well, they would be able to connect all of the domes so they could provide them with a livable environment. It took fifteen years to get where they were at now, and in about six more months, they'll be able to start shipping people up here to work. Harvey had to smile at the accomplishment. He was here when they laid the first foundation, and he would be here to see them put up the new United Earth flag. In a way, the two were connected. The station would symbolize the fact that Earth was finally able to set aside their individual problems of race and color, and concentrate on working together as one proud world. 

His fog was dissipated by the sight of a ship coming in too low and too fast. His helmet radio instantly picked up and transmitted his voice to everyone. "Look out! Get down!" 

Workers scrambled everywhere as the craft buzzed by them in a blur. When Harvey got up, his face was red, and looked as if it might inflate even more and pop out the faceplate. He switched channels. "_Apollo!_ What in God's name are you trying to do, kill us all?" 

By the time Harvey had picked himself up, Apollo had already swept past the moon, and was gracefully swinging around. Now he was hovering about 100 feet off the ground, facing the disgruntled foreman. "_Sorry, Harv, couldn't resist_." he replied. "_Besides, you know that I have to test this craft's maneuverability. That means making high-speed, low-level passes_." 

"Well, couldn't you just as easily use something that can't be scared, like rock formations." 

"_Nah. Rocks wouldn't give if I crashed into them_." He waited a moment, knowing Harvey's reaction, then added, "_I'm just kidding. You know I would never do anything that wasn't completely within my control. Besides, I like you guys too much to kill you_." 

Harvey snorted. "If that's how you treat you're friends, then I'd hate to be your enemy." 

Apollo snickered. He was about to continue his banter when the radio cut him off. "_Racer, I thought you promised that you'd leave them alone_." 

"I never said that, Control, I merely said I'd try. And I did, too... for a good five seconds." 

"_Very funny, Flyboy. Listen, we'd like you to test the sensor package on your craft_." 

"Sensors work fine to me, Control." Apollo answered. _What a stupid question_, went through his mind. 

Frustration came over the transmission. "_No, no, no. Come on, Apollo. You're supposed to be one of the brightest individuals we have. Stop trying to be cute by acting like a moron_." A sigh registered over the air. "_We want you to test the compositional scanners that we installed in _Starfighter 1_. You know, the ones that tell us what something is made of?_" 

"Oh! _Those_ sensors! Why didn't you say so in the first place. Okay. Got it." Then, as if Apollo had taken a mask off, a more serious tone permeated his voice. "All kidding aside, was there anything in particular that you'd like me to study?" 

There was silence on the other end for a moment as the operator wondered if the pilot had a split personality. "_Ah, Findley's Comet is just approaching Venus. It's fairly new and unstudied in this system. Try to track it down and take some readings_." advised Control. 

Apollo nodded, though they couldn't see him. "Roger that, Control. Punching it now." He looked toward the lunar surface. "So long, Harvey. Good luck in finishing here." 

"All right, buddy. Be seein' ya." But before he could get the last words out, _Starfighter 1_ took off in a flash, buzzing Harvey again in the process. Though the environmental controls on Harvey's suit kept him warm, he shivered. _What's the matter with me? Cripes, it's almost like I feel like it's the last time I'll see him_. Harvey shivered again. _I've been up here too long. That's it. Soon as I'm done here, I'm takin' a vacation_. He chuckled at his own stupidity and brought his attention back to his work. "Hey, hey! Watch it! You're putting that expansion coil on backwards! Flip it over and try it again!" 

Five hours later, Apollo caught up with the comet. "All right, Control, I'm within range. Taking sensor readings now." He knew his transmission would take a few minutes to reach Earth, but he felt as if there was no time to wait. He started scanning the comet, and started speaking to himself, a habit he could never seem to break. "That's funny. The computer can't recognize some of the materials in the cloud. Maybe if I move closer, I'll get a better reading." 

As he accelerated to get a better look, Control tried to call him, though a burst of static made it hard to hear them. "_Control to _Starfighter 1_. Control to _Starfighter 1_. We're picking you up here, but you're much too close to the comet; we're picking up gravitational fluctuations in your immediate area. Keep a safe distance_." 

"Yeah, yeah. Worrywarts," Apollo mumbled. He would have listened to them, but he got another impish idea. He thought, _What harm could it do?_, and charged up his pulse cannons. He maneuvered into a good position and touched off a few shots. The energy bolts struck and sizzled in the comet. Apollo laughed at the success. 

Then something unexpected happened. A baseball-sized chunk of comet was shot off. It bounced against the larger body and zinged straight towards Apollo's ship. Being too close, he couldn't avoid it. The chunk crashed through his cockpit, narrowly missing him. His cockpit was exposed to space, but his life support suit would keep him alive, and with such a small hole, the cockpit resealed itself. However, materials within the chunk reacted with the atmosphere in his cockpit, causing a cryogenic effect. Ice crystallized on everything. Eyes instantly frozen over stared ahead, seeing nothing. 

_CHAPTER ONE_

Approximately 220 years later: 

The Vulcan science vessel _Surak_ was heading home after five years of exploration. True to their curious nature, the ship's crew decided to take an uncharted route home, providing a mission of maximum efficiency and results. 

T'Vek sat in her chair in the rear of the bridge, surveying her crew. She had heard that the captains on the Starfleet ships considered themselves proud of their crews. As a Vulcan, T'Vek would never admit to such a human emotion as pride, even if she did feel that way. 

A flashing light in her peripheral vision caught her attention, and she turned toward the source. As she did so, her "science" officer (they were, in fact, all science officers. This one just happened to have the job of monitoring the sensors) turned toward the viewer. "We are approaching a vessel. It does not seem to have power," the officer rose, one of his eyebrows raising with him, "however, we have detected a life sign on board." 

T'Vek stood to approach the science station. "An unpowered vessel housing a life form?" She looked toward the screen. "Curious." she concluded, with just the exact amount of dramatics needed for the situation. "Does it pose a danger to us?" 

"Negative. Radiation is within normal levels. It has primitive thrust capabilities and pulse laser cannons." He looked at his commanding officer. "Even at full power, our shields would be more than a match for his weaponry, and it has no shields of its own. Basically, this ship poses no threat to us." 

T'Vek nodded. "And yet we have the mystery of this life form." She turned once again toward the screen, going over every logical course of action in her mind. Only when she reached a decision did she speak again. "Helm, activate the tractor beam, and bring it aboard. We shall try to ascertain what we can from this vessel." The helm complied, and soon the humming of the tractor beam could be heard. A faint shadow of light connected themselves with the derelict, and they began to pull it towards them. 

~ * ~ 

The first thing Apollo saw when he opened his eyes was the ceiling of some room. He assumed that he was in a hospital, because there were beds all along the walls, but this was no hospital like he had ever seen before. He tried to rise and found he met up with resistance. He looked at himself to find that he was strapped down. Had whoever rescued Apollo deem him a threat? Unfortunately, no one was present for him to protest his treatment. 

As though in response to his thought, the door at the far end of the room slid open with a shoosh (_shoosh?_, he thought), and someone came through. He stood over him with what looked to be some sort of scanning device, but it, like the hospital, was like nothing he had ever seen. The person took the readings and turned to face someone else who just entered. It was then that Apollo noticed the pointed, upswept ears. He thought the two people were talking, but he couldn't understand anything of what they were saying, and he was fluent in just about every language on Earth. He tried to get their attention by using first one dialect, then another. He even tried to combine a couple of them, though it came out really horrible. Finally, he got frustrated and did what he should have done in the first place. "Hey!" he yelled, "What does a guy have to do to get attention around here?" 

The two aliens turned toward Apollo and did something totally unexpected to him. "Was there a reason why you were speaking different Terran languages?" one of them said. It wasn't so much the question that caught him off guard, but rather the fact that he could understand them. 

It finally occurred to Apollo's brain to send a message to his gaping jaw to utter some words. "You speak English?" 

They looked at each other. "Of course," the other one said matter-of-factly. "But the accurate term is 'Federation Standard'." 

"Say what?" Apollo said, trying not to sound too stupid, though failing miserably. 

The other two moved away from him and spoke among themselves. After a few minutes, one of them returned to him and said, "Do you not realize you are not from this region of space?" 

Apollo could only shake his head, an idle thought going through his head, _that sounded a lot like "You're not from around here, are you."_. He decided to explain his patient's situation to him. "I am Selek. I am a healer, as you have probably deduced. My assistant is T'Less. From the information we have gathered about you, you are a Terran male, approximately 26 of your years of age. You seem to be in excellent physical condition, which indicates that you maintained an adequate regimen of exercise and that your body was well preserved. All your senses seem to work normally...." 

Something clicked in Apollo's head, clearing the fog in his mind. _What a minute, what did he just say?_ "Whoa, whoa, back up a minute. What did you just tell me?" 

"I said your senses seem to be..." 

"No, before that." 

"I said you were well preserved." 

Apollo hesitated. "Well preserved," he repeated. 

"Yes." Selek said stoically. Apollo's eyes took on a glazed look. The two physicians looked at each other in a way that confirmed it all. _He truly does not know_, is what Apollo could almost hear them think. At a nod from Selek, T'Less released the straps from Apollo, then she left the room. Once she did that, Apollo carefully tested himself, sitting up slowly, then he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and rubbed his wrists to get circulation back into his hands, all this while being observed by Selek. Apollo hopped off the bed; he staggered a little, and Selek stepped toward him. But he waved the doctor off and managed to stand on his own. Once Selek was satisfied that Apollo was steady enough, he gestured toward an open doorway, and Apollo slowly followed him through. 

He had entered a small office. There was a desk and two chairs, with what appeared to be a computer built into a corner of the desk. Small, plastic squares of different colors were neatly stacked to one side of the computer. With another gesture from Selek, Apollo took the seat in front of the desk, while the doctor sat down behind the desk. He then sat there, staring through steepled fingers at Apollo, who was feeling a bit uncomfortable about now. After what seemed like hours, Selek sat up. "You must understand that I have never experienced such a situation as this. It is difficult to find the words to explain it." 

Apollo got a little irritated. "Look," he said, "I've never been one to enjoy people beating around the bush with me. Just get down to the nitty-gritty." 

An eyebrow shot up on Selek's head. "'Beating around the bush'? 'Nitty... gritty'? I do not understand." 

_He sure looks genuinely confused_, Apollo thought, so he took a deep breath. "Beating around the bush... you know, when people are afraid of telling me something that I may not like or understand, so they stretch the truth a bit, or they leave out a minor detail or two to make it sound better. The best way you can get on my good side is to give me the 'nitty-gritty', which means to come right out and tell me the cold, hard truth, and leave how I interpret it to me." 

Selek sat back, his other eyebrow joining the one that previously entered his hairline. "Fascinating. What a remarkably open outlook for a Terran to have. Very well... I would certainly wish to start out... 'on your good side.'" He leaned in closer, as if getting ready to tell a secret. "First of all, let me say that it was always my intention to tell the truth, since it is against a Vulcan's principles to lie. I am merely trying to deduce the proper method of informing you." 

"A Vulcan." 

"Yes. That is what you Terrans call our race. When we first discovered your race, we found that you couldn't pronounce our name. So after some discussion we found that your term, 'Vulcan,' seemed the most appropriate." He paused to allow Apollo to register the tidbit of information before getting back on track. "You were found adrift. All systems on your vessel were shut down, and you were in a form of stasis. We had discovered the remains of a cometary fragment in your cockpit with you. The substances within the fragment worked as a cryogenic catalyst. Basically, you were frozen as quickly as you would have disintegrated had you flown into a star. At first we were concerned as to how he would revive you. This ship hasn't had much contact with humans or Starfleet, so your physiology provided us with a puzzle. However, once we were certain you were indeed human, we were able to logically deduce your proper vital statistics so we could revive you without causing any harm. And any damage caused by your stasis was easily repaired. However, what intrigued us was this..." a chill drifted up Apollo's spine as Selek's next words came out. "Your ship was primitive-looking, so we analyzed it. You had been in stasis for over 200 years." 

Had it been possible for Apollo's jaw to drop to the floor, it would have done so. As it was, it simply hung loose. Apollo stood up and started pacing around the office. When he decided that he didn't have enough room, he walked out into the main area and paced there. Selek simply followed him. Apollo finally stopped and faced the harbinger of this news. "So what you're saying is that I'm over 200 years old." 

"Possibly. What was the year you last recall?" 

"Let's see. I think it was..." Apollo did some calculations in his head, "2047." 

Selek replied in the blink of an eye. "You were in stasis for 221.43 years to be exact," he replied. 

Apollo didn't know what to say, so he chuckled. "That's strange, I don't feel a day over 200." He got an odd look from Selek. "That's a joke. You know, humor?" 

Selek thought for a moment, then it registered. "Ah, that is humor. Forgive me, I hadn't experienced much of that, either." 

"I can tell." Apollo replied dryly. "You said you're a Vulcan." 

"That is correct." Selek said. 

"O-kay," he prompted. "Could you perhaps tell me a little more about yourselves?" 

"Certainly," he said. "We come from a star that Terrans have labeled 40 Eridani. We were once primitive and savage, like you were in your past. However, through the teachings of Surak, whom you could compare to your Moses, we learned to control, if not eliminate, our emotions. Once that was accomplished, peace settled over my people. Late in your 21st century - shortly after you disappeared, in fact - we discovered that your species had discovered faster-than-light travel, and contacted you with the hopes of establishing a relationship. At first, your people exercised grave caution, but fortunately, our two worlds managed to unite. Together with other worlds, we formed the United Federation of Planets." He broke off. "Forgive me. This experience has me very intrigued. In addition to leaving out important details that were crucial in the Federation's development, I have also neglected to inform the captain that you are awake." Selek walked over to a box on the wall and pressed a button. "Sickbay to Bridge." 

"_T'Vek_," was the only response. 

"The Terran is awake. Other than being disoriented, he appears to have been unaffected by his time in stasis." 

"_Very well, I shall come to speak with him_." The statement sounded like a dismissal. 

Apollo decided to butt in. "Excuse me, Captain T'Vek, this is Captain Apollo A. Racer. If you don't mind, I'd appreciate going to you. I have a feeling that it would be appropriate." 

The intercom was silent. Selek took the opportunity to be inquisitive. "Forgive me. 'Captain'?" 

Apollo shrugged sheepishly. "Well, I _was_ a Captain, in the United Earth Forces. But from what I understand, I guess that organization probably no longer exists." 

"You are correct. You have remarkable insight, for a Terran." 

"You mean we've gotten dumber over the years? Oh, what did I come back to?" Apollo noted the puzzled expression as a reply and wiped the grin off his face. "Sorry. Another joke. I have a habit of making them when I'm out of touch with reality." 

Selek thought about it. "Ah. I see," was all he said. 

"_Captain Racer_," said the voice on the intercom. "_Have Selek escort you to the bridge_." The intercom went silent again. Apollo thought that it almost sounded as if T'Vek was condescending, as though she thought that it wasn't important who he said he was. 

Selek took that as his cue. He stepped toward the door, and it slid open again. "This way," he said. Apollo followed him out as the door closed behind him. 

As they walked through the corridor, Apollo gawked at his surroundings; it was natural, of course, as he had never been aboard a ship from the future. He also noticed that Selek refrained from talking with him any further; in fact, it almost seemed to him that the Vulcan no longer wanted to be seen with him, and he couldn't understand why. 

They reached a set of double doors at the end of the corridor. They opened, revealing what looked like an elevator. Once they got in, the doors closed, but they didn't go anywhere. "Hey, where are the buttons on this car? I'm assuming this bridge of yours is on a different floor." 

Selek looked at Apollo for a few moments; then, satisfied that he made his charge a little uncomfortable, he spoke. "Yes, the bridge is seven levels up. There are no buttons because the turbolifts are voice activated. You are no doubt wondering then why we haven't moved yet." 

"Well, yeah, that would have been my next question," Apollo said sarcastically. 

"I am starting to wonder if it would be appropriate for the captain to speak to you." 

"What!?" 

"Throughout our entire walk, you appeared as though you have never been on a ship before." 

"Well, I certainly haven't been on a ship this big..." 

"And your actions are that of a child." 

Apollo's look could have burned through Selek as well as the turbolift wall. "What do you mean, a child? Are you calling me immature? Hey, look, I didn't ask for the situation I'm in right now! How the hell can I help it if I was a damn popsicle for over 200 years!?" 

"That was 221..." 

"I don't give a damn how many years it was! I'm here now, I'm out of place, and everything's new to me! The least you could do is give me the courtesy of being astounded by my surroundings! Cripes, what did you expect? I would come out of suspended animation, look around, and say 'Oh, yes. I understand. It's perfectly reasonable for me to run into a comet, then wake up in the distant future. It's all so clear to me now.' I'm sorry, but we 'Terrans' are kind of like that. When we're suddenly thrown into a totally strange environment, we're going to be overly curious." When he finished, Apollo crossed his arms and glared intensely at Selek, as if daring him to have a rebuttal. 

He half-expected the Vulcan to do just that. He had experiences where he worked up heads of steam over being wronged, only to have his opponent calmly throw a wet blanket on his temper and undercut his momentum. 

He found that he was surprised by Selek's reply. "Forgive me. I was ignoring the circumstances by which you have come to us. You are correct that we should have assumed that since you have journeyed this far into the future, you would not have such technology. Therefore, your reaction would be logical. And... it is said that Vulcans have been known to be... 'overly curious' at times." He paused, giving Apollo sufficient time to cool down. "Bridge," he stated. 

"Huh?" Apollo said, and the turbolift started moving. 

"Bridge. That is the key word that gives the turbolift computer our destination, and it responds by taking us there." 

"Oh," Apollo said. He felt a little awkward about losing his temper, and vowed that he would maintain a tighter rein on his emotions. After all, if an entire race could do it, why not a simple human? 

By the time the lift stopped and the doors opened, Apollo seemed to Selek like a completely different person. There looked to be no trace of the human that had such an emotional outburst before. Selek snapped out of his introspect when the doors opened. Apollo was amazed at the sight of the bridge, but he tried to keep his astonishment hidden. The chair in the center of the bridge swiveled around, revealing a rather attractive woman. Apollo decided to clamp down on those thoughts, too. 

Selek hesitated a moment. To his relief, Apollo maintained this new demeanor on the bridge. "Captain, this is Apollo Racer." 

T'Vek stood up. _Great, she would have to be a babe_, Apollo thought. _Settle down now. No sense blowing this because of hormones_. He had his hand halfway up when she raised hers, palm forward and fingers split in the middle. "Greetings, Captain." 

"Greetings to you, too. Captain," Apollo said. He brought his hand back down, absently wiping it off on his hip. "This is a very impressive ship you have here." 

T'Vek lifted an eyebrow. "In actuality, this ship is not mine. It belongs to our government." Remembering that this was a human that she was talking to, she appended, "But thank you." She sensed that he had apparently noted her hesitation. "Forgive me, but my travels rarely bring me in contact with humans." 

"I understand," Apollo responded. "My travels didn't exactly prepare me to contact Vulcans, either." 

Her other eyebrow disappeared under her hair, so he took that as a request to explain. "That was a little joke. Where I come from, we didn't meet any aliens yet, let alone Vulcans." Suddenly, he realized that he might possibly have offended her. "But... I guess I'm the alien at the moment." 

"Quite," was her reply. She started circling the bridge, slowly taking him into perspective. "Do you realize the position you are in, Captain?" she asked. 

Apollo gulped. _I knew I shouldn't have said what I did_, he chided himself. "Look, I'm sorry about that crack about aliens. I didn't mean to offend..." 

T'Vek stopped her pacing. "I did not take offense to your statement. I was referring to the fact that you are a person from the past. A 21st century Terran who has survived into the 23rd century. I dare say such an experience is rather unique." 

"Well, yes, I suppose it is." Apollo seemed rather puzzled. "Where is this all going?" 

T'Vek's pacing brought her in front of Apollo. "I have received word from Starfleet Command on Earth." She paused to ensure he understood what she was saying. He didn't. "That is the equivalent to the United Earth Forces of your time. They informed me that the choice is yours. You may decide to go back to Earth, and reassimilate yourself into society." He had thought that going back to Earth was his only choice, until she continued, "Or, if you choose, you may return to Vulcan with us. Our facilities are more than adequate to bring you... 'up-to-date', as you humans say, to your present surroundings. They are certainly superior to Earth's facilities." 

_If you say so yourself_, Apollo thought, _God, what an ego_. 

"There is also another thing. Perhaps it was caused as a result of your time in stasis. The elements in the source of your suspended animation also had an additional benefit, according to the medical report. You appear to possess a neurochemical in your brain that grants you certain psionic abilities. Now, whether they are latent or trainable can be found out at our Science Academy on Vulcan, should you choose to go that route." 

Apollo, for some reason, had a difficult time keeping his attention on what she was saying. "Huh? Yeah, I've... had occasion to have a... premonition or two... in the past.". Suddenly the floor seemed a bit uncertain to him. _Am I a bit feverish or has it always been this hot in here_, he asked himself. With that thought, he started swaying. _How come the room's starting to spin?_

Selek was there to steady him before he even realized that the doctor had moved. "Forgive me, Captain. In light of this discovery, I neglected to remember that humans are susceptible to our environment. The air here for him is too thin and the temperature too high." 

Apollo nodded weakly. "I wondered... why I was having... a little trouble breathing. This choice you hit me with... isn't helping any, either. I need... time... to think about it." 

T'Vek nodded. "Understood. I believe that we were all somewhat remiss from our courtesies. As I said, the uniqueness of your situation has caught us off guard. Forgive our oversight." 

The human smiled. "No... offense taken. I know this may... seem strange... since I just woke up... from the longest catnap in history, but I think I need to rest." On that note, Apollo passed out; Selek caught him before he hit the floor. 

"Arrange some quarters for our guest; with the proper environmental adjustments." T'Vek said, nodding to Selek. He carried Apollo toward the turbolift. "Selek," she added. When he turned around, she continued, "Inform me when he wakes. I would be interested to speak to him again." Selek nodded and entered the turbolift with his unconscious patient. 


	2. Origins Chapter Two

_CHAPTER TWO_

_Curse this Vulcan heat_, Apollo swore to himself, not for the first time that day. _Four years on this world and it still gets to me_. What he neglected to remind himself, however, was the fact that it was now in the middle of their summer, and that even the most frigid of Vulcan manners would have thawed out under 40 Eridani's heat. During the milder climates (still uncomfortable under human standards), he heard many an offworlder mutter behind his back about green blood coursing through his veins. Apollo always knew that he adapted to different climates with relative ease, so he had to smile at his colleagues' comments. 

He was walking across a courtyard, on his way to the Vulcan Science Academy. Science was one of his strong points, so it was small wonder that his advancement in his class had earned him the respect of his peers and the approval of his instructors. The courses were still quite difficult - Captain T'Vek made no boast that their facility was superior; it was plain fact - but then again, Apollo loved a challenge. Approaching the classroom where the last of his studies for the day would be carried out, he was mildly surprised to see his instructor waiting for him outside the room. "Sarek," Apollo stated, in fluent Vulcan and with his hand held up in the formal greeting. 

"Greetings, Apollo," Sarek replied, returning the gesture. He then gestured down the corridor. "I would speak with you." He started walking down the hall, Apollo lengthening his stride to catch up. 

Once beside his teacher, Apollo attempted to convey his thoughts. "If there is a problem with my studies..." 

Sarek shook his head. "Your studies are impressive, as they had been since shortly after your arrival. In fact, your control over your mental abilities are excellent. The matter of which I speak is more important." He paused. "Apollo, you have been here for four Standard years, is this not correct?" Apollo merely nodded, unsure as to where this was leading. Sarek noticed his expression and continued. "I feel that your studies at the Academy can no longer advance with any significance here." 

Apollo couldn't believe what he heard. "That isn't possible, _T'Kahr_. I still have so much to learn here," he said, his control wavering. 

Sarek gave Apollo a sidelong glance, but overlooked his outburst. "Yes, I must agree. You still have much to learn." He stopped and turned to face his pupil. "However, I feel that you should be given an opportunity to learn more from the planet of your origin." Sarek paused, letting the information sink in. "I am leaving Vulcan for Earth in 5.73 standard days, to resume my duties as ambassador there. I would consider it an honor if you would accompany me." 

Apollo stood there, almost dumbstruck. "With all due respect, _T'Kahr_, I believe the honor would fall upon me." He dropped some of his formality. "I have been a bit homesick, haven't I?" 

Sarek gave him a slight tilt of his head, the Vulcan equivalent of a shrug. "Your restlessness has been... communicated," he said matter-of-factly. 

Apollo smiled, knowing that within the last six months, he had difficulty trying to hide the fact that he was thinking more and more about what Earth was like. All too quickly, though, his thoughts turned dim, and the smile faded. "Except that Earth really isn't home for me any longer, is it. No matter how much I've learned here, I'll still be out-of-place when I set foot there." 

"You will adapt to it, as you have adapted to Vulcan. Besides, there is an old Vulcan proverb. 'The task left unattended today will only need to be attended to on the next day." 

Apollo looked suspiciously at him. "That sounds an awful lot like a saying I had once heard from my time. 'Don't put off until tomorrow what you can do today'." 

Sarek's eyebrows raised. "Did I not just say that?" 

Apollo grinned. If Sarek weren't Vulcan, he'd have punched him in the arm. Instead he merely said, "Very well. I'll go with you to Earth. It should be quite interesting to see how much the place has changed without me." 

~ * ~ 

When they reached Earth, Apollo had some expectations of how it would have improved. _After all_, he mused, _they wouldn't have been able to become a founding member of this Federation if they hadn't advanced from where they were when I last set foot on this planet_. He frowned to himself. _That's another thing. I have to stop thinking of this place as an alien world. Like it or not, I'm in this century for the duration, and I still came from here_. 

"You must forgive me. I had forgotten that you have not been here since before even I was born." 

Apollo cleared his head of mist. "Excuse me?" he asked Sarek, for it was obvious that he hadn't heard what his mentor had said. 

Sarek nodded. "I had noticed the look of wonderment on your face and mentioned that you truly must have missed your world, but I neglected to recall that, technically, your homeworld is over 200 years in the past. I suspect that this place is as alien to you as any other place." 

Apollo gravely considered what Sarek had just told him. "Indeed, you are correct, _T'Kahr_. I am a stranger here." He sighed. "A stranger in a familiar land." 

If Sarek were human, he would have smiled; instead, he had the look that Apollo had recognized as bemusement. "Ah, but therein lies the challenge. You must put behind you what you knew of your world. It will hamper your efforts to get to know this one better." 

"Wise words as always, _T'Kahr_. I will attempt to live by them." By now, the crowd at the spaceport had thinned out a bit, enough for them to travel through. "Shall we?" Apollo said, gesturing to the doors on the other side of the room. 

"Indeed. We do not wish to keep Starfleet waiting." On the ride to Earth, they had discussed several options to continue Apollo's education. Apollo felt that Starfleet Academy held the best opportunity for him to catch up on what he missed over the past 200 years. 

Without further hesitation, now that Sarek's entourage had reunited, they headed out the doors. 

~ * ~ 

The first stop was the Vulcan embassy. There Sarek's aides had efficiently stashed their possessions in their appropriate locations. While they arranged everything for Sarek, he and Apollo headed over to Starfleet Command. 

Apollo had to note, ironically, that Starfleet's Command complex sat on the very site that the United Earth Space Command center had been located. He even recognized a couple of the buildings; of course, some of those buildings were currently the sites of museums, now. Aside from recognition, apprehension was also in the front of Apollo's mind. _It's so huge_, he thought, _and so busy_. He suddenly remembered his actions on the _Surak_ those four years ago, and kept his astonishment well concealed. 

They entered the vast complex and stepped into the nearest turbolift. Silence accompanied them on the ride up to the flag officers' levels. When they entered the fleet admiral's reception area, a young lieutenant in a command gold tunic stood up. Seeing and recognizing the Vulcan, he wasn't sure whether or not to salute or do something Vulcan, so he just stood there. "Well trained, isn't he?" Apollo muttered. 

Sarek dismissed his protege's remark with a raised eyebrow and spoke to the officer. "Lieutenant, is Admiral Komack in? He has been expecting us." 

The lieutenant, finally able to do something, blurted out, "Yes, yes sir, Ambassador, I'll let him know you're here." He pressed the intercom button on his desk, "Admiral, Ambassador Sarek to see you, sir." 

"_Send them in_," replied a voice on the intercom. Sarek gestured to Apollo, and they both entered the inner office. 

Admiral Komack stood up from behind his desk as they entered. He gave Sarek the formal split-fingered salute. "Greetings, Ambassador. It's an honor to meet with you again." 

Sarek mirrored the salute and nodded. "The honor is mutual, Admiral." 

Komack then looked at Apollo. "So, this must be the man you talked with me about." He offered his hand to Apollo, who, after a moment's hesitation, shook it. "I'm Admiral Philip Komack." 

"Apollo Racer," he simply replied. 

Komack gestured to the seats in front of the desk. Sarek and Apollo took them, and Komack sat at the same time. "Apollo, from what I understand, you took a nice little trip." 

Apollo, having spent four years on Vulcan, learned their ability to raise an eyebrow at an obvious and/or confusing remark. He used this talent now. "The trip to Earth was pretty much uneventful." 

Komack closed his eyes and counted to five, slowly. "I meant that I understand that you've had an experience in time travel." 

Apollo's face lit up with comprehension. "Ah, you mean how the Vulcans found me. No, I never actually traveled through time. I was simply in a state of suspended animation until I was revived." Sarek understood that Apollo wasn't simply trying to emulate a Vulcan attitude; he was using humor, though there was truth in what he said. The admiral didn't know this, and Sarek felt a little amusement in figuring out the joke, thus participating in it, since Apollo knew that he wouldn't tell Komack. 

This time Komack counted to ten. "I... see." he said, as politely as possible. "And that makes you how old?" 

"Approximately 247.13 Standard years," Apollo replied. 

Komack sighed. _He's been with those Vulcans for too long_, he thought. He then smiled. "Funny, you don't look a day over 200." Apollo merely looked at Sarek and smirked, recalling that he had said precisely that to Selek on the Surak. He let Komack continue. "I also understand that you have discussed with Sarek about joining Starfleet." 

Okay, Apollo thought, this is where I get serious. "Yes, sir. I've realized that after studying on Vulcan, I would be much better off completing my education on Earth. After all, this is originally where I'm from. Besides, even... back in my time... I felt that my place was in space. I had really hoped to get back there some day." 

"I completely understand that. Tell me, when you were first discovered, why didn't you come back to Earth in the first place?" the admiral asked, quite innocently. 

Apollo contemplated telling him about what he could do. To be sure, he looked at Sarek, but got a look from his mentor discouraging him from mentioning what he had on his mind. He then did something he had been practicing; something that took Sarek completely by surprise. _:Why can I not tell him, T'Kahr?:_

Sarek took the shock in stride, and showed no outward sign of his startlement. _:The admiral does not know,:_ he responded, _:and I do not wish him to know.:_

The entire exchange took only a couple of seconds. At the time, Apollo looked to Komack as if he was trying to properly word his response, which he was. "I... really don't know. I guess at the time, I was still a bit disoriented, aside from a little shocked, at what had happened to me. The Vulcans brought themselves across to me as an intelligent people who knew what was going on in the world... pardon me, galaxy. I figured it would be... logical... to learn what I could from them. After all, they did save my life. I would have felt at odds if I told them to just drop me off at Earth and tell them 'So long, guys. Thanks for the ride home.'" 

Komack sat back in his chair, contemplating the answer. "You know, I wish I could say that I probably would have done the same thing. Unfortunately, I don't think either I or anyone else has been in your situation. I do know one thing; I'm quite sure that our scientists and historians would love to get their hands on you, to compare your personal experiences of that time period with the data they have about it, that is if you don't mind. And I think that somewhere between their prodding and poking we can fit Academy training into the equation. How does that sound?" 

Now it was Apollo's turn to contemplate the admiral's words. It sounded very intriguing. He didn't care much for the prodding end of the deal, but he was sure that he could work his way through that. "I don't see much of a problem with it. I do have one question, though, and I don't mean to nit-pick for an advantage over everyone else. But back in the United Earth Forces, I held the rank of Captain. I don't suppose that it would have any bearing over my current status, would it?" 

"That's a good question. I'll have to check on that. But for now," Komack stood up, implying the end of their meeting, so the others stood as well, "I welcome you both back to Earth." He reached out, shook Apollo's hand again, then straightened and gave the Vulcan salute again. "Good luck, Apollo. Peace and long life, Ambassador." 

Sarek said, "Live long and prosper, Admiral," and they exited the office. 

Once outside, Apollo turned to Sarek. "Why did you not want me to let Admiral Komack know about my mental abilities?" 

"Why did you not tell me that you were telepathic?" 

"I asked you first," Apollo said, a little defiant. When he realized that tactic wouldn't cause Sarek to budge, he grimaced. "I didn't want to tell you about something I wasn't sure I could do until I knew that I could do it right." 

Sarek raised an eyebrow. "When did you find out that you could project successfully?" 

Apollo grinned sheepishly. "Back in Komack's office." 

Sarek sighed. Four years on Vulcan and he still has the remarkable talent to be elegantly illogical. He then answered the question he had been asked. "I did not wish you to tell the admiral about your abilities because it would give the scientists that much more to analyze. It is enough that they will be taking your time to ask questions about your background, about your time. If they knew about your abilities, you would not have any time for the Academy. They will still discover that you have a high psi factor, but I do not think they will be able to tell that your talents are more than potential." 

"I cannot lie to them about what I can do." 

"This is true, but you can discourage them from asking the proper questions that would force you to reveal what you can do. Besides, your talents do affect you on a personal level. If they realize that, they will not probe further." 

Apollo mulled that thought around in his head a little. "You're right. They can't find out anything I don't want them to." 

"Precisely. Now come. I have much work to do to prepare for tomorrow's appointments. I would be privileged if you could help me in the preparation." 

"The honor is mine, _T'Kahr_." 

Sarek stopped and faced Apollo. "I believe that title is no longer appropriate. You have surpassed what I can teach you. Aside from the Academy, from here on out, you are your own _T'Kahr_." 

Apollo nodded in agreement as they headed for the embassy. 


	3. Origins Chapter Three

_CHAPTER THREE_

Apollo hurried through the Academy's campus, carrying a padd (although he called it an electronic clipboard, since that was what it resembled) while moving at his breakneck pace. He passed instructors and students alike; they were always slightly amazed - as well as slightly amused. In the two years since this cadet joined the Academy, they've always seen him reading between classes; he never once looked up, but somehow he managed to navigate his way to his next class without ever bumping into anybody. His instructors smirked, knowing that his psi readings tested higher than a Vulcan's, but not publicizing that knowledge, due to orders from Starfleet Command. Apollo heard murmurs in the crowd pertaining to him, and he had to smile, mainly because nobody on campus knew just how much he'd been holding back. 

His record so far was exemplary, and he was always either on time or early for his classes. However, there were certain things that alienated him from his peers. For one thing, he looked older than his classmates; even though he looked much younger than his actual age, his appearance still drew looks and rumors from people. The other item that distanced him from his group was the effort he took in studying. He had so much catch-up learning to do, despite the fact that he learned much on Vulcan, that he was always reading. As a result, he didn't make many friends; of course the one friend he felt particularly close to was his roommate, Skip. Skip was a wiry guy, but his build belied his strength. He had short, scruffy brown hair, a long freckled face and brown eyes; his uniform always hung from his frame as though it was a size or two too large for him. If Apollo had a problem or a question about anything, he would confide in Skip, and Skip would return the favor by talking with Apollo about anything. There was the circle of friends that Skip associated with, but Apollo really felt somewhat uncomfortable with them. If Apollo looked back at how he acted several years ago, he would have thought his attitude bizarre. But he had changed a lot on Vulcan. Some might even say that he grew up, as far as his behavior was concerned. 

There were people who were envious of him. Back in the 21st century, he would have been constantly harassed for "ruining the curve"; fortunately, at the Academy, one was judged by their own talents rather than how they compared to other people's talents, at least objectively. There was talk that he was being watched from "up above", meaning Starfleet's brass. They always took notice of cadets who performed beyond the norm. 

Apollo was reading notes about Earth's Third World War. _It started not very long after I "left"_, he thought with some shock, _only a couple of years later, and I would've been history. I wonder if Harvey was caught up in that_. Suddenly, he felt this itching sensation on the back of his head. He tried to scratch it when he realized that the feeling came from inside his head. Apollo stopped dead in his tracks, startling people around him. He had experienced this sensation before, but he couldn't tell what it was, only that the feeling became more pronounced with each time he felt it. He had recently been reading up on mental abilities, trying to pinpoint what it could be. In fact, he read one paper where a subject described a precognitive ability; the sensations she mentioned were very similar to what he was now feeling. So Apollo sat down at a nearby bench and concentrated on the sensation, blocking all other stimuli out. A vague image formed in his mind, but he couldn't quite make it out. He thought he saw a woman, and that she was excited, perhaps panicked. He also saw her in a strange way, as if he was looking down at her, but it was somehow different. 

The image faded. Had he been as he was a couple of years ago, he would have frustrated himself to no end. However, now he simply used Vulcan techniques to file the experience away in his memory. He would go over it again, but right now, he had a class to get to. If he hurried, he could still arrive on time. 

~ * ~ 

Apollo finished his class, his last of the day, and headed for the dorms. On his way, he noticed a crowd around the corner of another dormitory. He jogged over to see what was so interesting. As he managed to edge near the front, he caught sight of Skip, so he maneuvered in that direction. "Hey," he said, jabbing his friend in the shoulder, "what happened here?" 

Skip looked at who poked him. "Oh, hi, Apollo. You missed it. One of the cadets fell off the dorm roof. It doesn't look good." 

Suddenly, Apollo felt an extreme sense of dread; he was suddenly compelled to see this person, so he moved to the front where he could see what was happening. When he reached the scene, he saw medics bent over a prone form on the ground, working on her. One of them stood up. "We can't do anymore here. We've got to get her into the infirmary." The other medic stood up to get the anti-gravity stretcher waiting nearby. It was then that Apollo got a good look at the cadet, and he froze in shock. 

It was the woman he saw in his mind. The reason why he saw her so strangely in his image wasn't because he was looking down at her, but because he saw her approach the ground head-first as she fell. He snapped out of his shock enough to speak. "What happened here?" 

The question wasn't aimed at anyone in general, but one of the medics heard him and assumed he was talking to him. Due to his appearance, the medic thought he was an instructor... one of the benefits of Apollo's situation. "Her friend said they were doing a science experiment on the roof. Gust of wind came and knocked her off. Poor girl. I hope we can save her." That was all he could say, because they were ready to take her away. 

The crowd started thinning out. Skip came over to Apollo. "Let's go, buddy. Show's over." 

He put his hand on Apollo's arm to guide him away. Apollo wouldn't budge at first; he was staring at the spot where the cadet had just been picked up from. "Come on." he said, putting a little more effort into it. "It's over." Apollo reluctantly started moving with Skip toward the dormitory. 

Once in their room, Skip spoke up. "Hey, Apollo, lighten up. I mean, sure, that scene was horrible, but I didn't think you'd be this affected by it. Haven't you seen anything like that before?" 

Apollo sat on his bed but stared at the floor. "That's not the point." he said absently. 

"What do you mean, that's not the point?" he shrugged. "Well, look, we've got the best doctors available here. I'm sure they..." 

"I saw it." 

Skip stopped. "Wha - wait a minute. What was that?" 

Apollo looked up; Skip saw a haunted expression on his friend's face. "I said, I saw it. I could have stopped it." 

Skip shook his head. "You couldn't have seen it. You showed up just a couple minutes after I did, and I just got out of class myself. How could you have stopped it?" 

Apollo didn't say anything else. He just stared at the wall, trying to figure out for himself just what he meant by what he said. 

~ * ~ 

Later that night, Apollo showed up at the infirmary. When asked why he was there, he said he had wanted to see the cadet they brought in just this afternoon. The medic on duty went to his terminal. "Let's see," he mused poring over the names on his list. "Ah, here we are. Samantha Taylor. Boy, she was a lucky woman, I tell you. It was touch and go for a while, but the docs pulled her through. But I can guarantee she won't be up and around for a while. Do you know her?" 

"In a way," Apollo said absently. 

"Well, I don't suppose it would hurt for you to see her. She's sleeping, so she won't be able to talk." He showed Apollo what room she was in, then shook his head slowly as he watched the cadet walk down the small corridor. He had heard about Apollo just like everyone else has, so he had no idea why this guy was interested in her. 

Apollo reached her room. She was lying peacefully in the bed, the top of her head wrapped in bandages; she didn't give any indication that she had seen Apollo, so he figured the medic was right, and that she was sleeping. He walked up to her bedside; not knowing what else to do, he gently took her hand. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I don't know if you can hear me or not, but I wish that I had recognized what I had seen earlier today for what it was. I would then have been able to help you. Forgive me." He gave her hand a slight squeeze. Though she was still asleep, her hand responded, and squeezed back. Apollo didn't know whether or not to take it as a sign of forgiveness, but he did take it as a sign of dismissal. He laid her hand back on the bed and departed as silently as he arrived. 

~ * ~ 

Apollo and Skip were having lunch at a restaurant outside of the Academy, talking of future options. Skip put on his best parental expression. "So, my son," he quipped. "What do you want to be when you grow up?" 

Apollo rolled his eyes at his friend and laughed. "'Son'?" he scoffed, "Listen to you. I'll have you know that I do have a few years over you, you know." 

"You don't have to tell me about it. You think it's easy for me to try to overlook the fact that my fellow roomie and classmate is old enough to be my many-times-great grandfather? The thing that cracks me up is that you don't act your age." 

"Hah. If I did that, I'd be dead. I don't think all you want is a roommate who does nothing but lie around and stink up the place." 

Skip chuckled. "I thought you already did that." He got a roll in his face for that remark. Their laughter died down. "But seriously, what were you thinking of doing when you graduated." 

"Honestly?" Apollo said. Upon hearing the question, he immediately composed himself and thought about it. "You know, I was thinking of transferring to Starfleet Medical, become a doctor." 

Skip shook his head; it was his turn to roll his eyes. "I know where this is heading. Apollo, that was over two months ago. You told me yourself that you found out she was going to be fine. There's nothing you could've done for her. Let it rest." They sat in silence for a few minutes. "Besides," Skip continued, "I don't see you as a doctor." 

Apollo sat back and crossed his arms. "Oh, you don't, do you. Well, tell me, Oh Great Bird of the Galaxy, what, pray tell, do you see me doing?" 

Skip smiled. "Janitor on a cargo freighter." He ducked as another roll went whizzing past his head. 

"No, seriously." Skip leaned forward and gazed intently at Apollo. "You look like the type of person who..." he trailed off, fully concentrating, as if he was trying to see through his friend. "Well you're not the type who likes to take orders. I mean, you'll follow orders; you seem to have a fierce loyalty. But... if you had the choice of whether to lead or to follow, you'd lead. You've just got that 'take charge' type of personality." 

Apollo smirked. "Wouldn't everyone take that choice?" 

Skip shook his head. "No, not really. As a matter of fact, I don't think I'd be too comfortable with command. Quite frankly, it scares me, being responsible for other people. But I can tell you this; if you were the man I had to serve under, I think I'd be proud to do so." 

Apollo smiled, touched by Skip's sentiment. Then he blurted out, "Pilot." 

"What?" Skip said. 

"I said, 'pilot'. I think I'd like to be a pilot." he replied, looking at the sky. A shuttle chose that moment to fly overhead, enhancing Apollo's decision. 

"You're dreaming." Skip said. He reached for the rolls to toss one at his friend, but Apollo reached out, without looking down, and moved it out of Skip's reach. 

"No, I'm serious. I've been watching Nova Squadron when they take off for their practice runs. I think I could pull it off." 

Skip saw the serious look in Apollo's eyes. "Look, no one just simply 'pulls off' what Nova Squadron can do in those things. You'd have to be a pretty good pilot to do what they do." 

"But you see, I have the experience. Or haven't you seen the craft that the Vulcans pulled me out of when they found me?" He knew very well that Skip did. Shortly after Apollo returned to Earth, he found out a Vulcan ship had arrived and donated his _Starfighter 1_ to the Federation Museum in New Chicago. Not soon after that, he had dragged Skip there to look at it. Recalling how the boy had crawled all over it, he had a good idea what field Skip was going into. 

"You're right. If you flew that antique, you can do anything." Skip looked at Apollo's expression, and realized that he was dead serious. "Okay, okay. I have contacts who could check on it, but don't hold your breath." 

Apollo smiled. "Thanks a lot. I mean it." 

Suddenly Skip wasn't looking at Apollo anymore, but past him. "Whoa, bud. Speaking of holding your breath." 

Apollo turned around to see what Skip was staring at. He saw Samantha Taylor walking along the buildings across from where they were sitting. She spotted the two of them and headed in their direction. 

Skip tried to put his eyes back in his head. "Whoa. She's coming this way. Say," he said in realization, "isn't that..." 

Apollo nodded wordlessly, nervously, watching as she approached them. She was about medium height with a slight frame. Her delicate face was framed by short, sandy blond hair, and emphasized by blue eyes. 

Apollo looked at Skip, who saw the message in his friend's face. "Just when you think you know a guy..." Skip kidded. "Okay, I'll see you back on campus." He stood up just as she reached their table. 

"Hi. Mind if I join you?" she asked cheerfully as she reached the table. 

Skip offered her his chair. "I'm sure my friend here won't mind. Me, I've got to get going. Got a lot of studying to do. No offense, but I hope you don't mind." 

"Oh, no, not at all," she replied. "Nice seeing you." She gave him a short wave. 

Skip waved back, but when she turned back around, he looked at Apollo, winked, and gave him a thumbs-up sign. Apollo waved him off without making it look like he was waving him off. Then he turned to face her. 

"Hi," she said, "I'm Samantha." 

"I know," he replied. She looked at him with a mix of puzzlement and recognition. "I mean, I heard that it was you who... who..." he stopped, realizing that he just put his foot in his mouth. "How are you doing?" 

She suddenly understood what he was referring to. "The infirmary gave me a clean bill of health three days ago. I was trying to catch up on my studies." She looked down, feeling a bit apprehensive. "I, uh, understand that you're something of the brainy type around here." 

He was startled when he realized what she was asking. But rather than jump to conclusions, he figured that he'd let her finish. "Uh, yes, there's been rumors to that effect." 

"Well, you see, my roommate is intelligent enough and all, but she has studies of her own to worry about." 

"I have my own studies as well." 

"But you don't worry about them much, do you." 

"No." 

They both realized that such rapid-fire exchanges weren't going to get either of them anywhere, so they fell silent for a moment. She then continued, "Would you be willing to take on a little extra work? Could you tutor me?" 

Apollo knew it was what she wanted to ask, but he was still affected by the question. "Well, I don't..." 

"It would only be until I can get caught up, and believe me, I'm a fast learner. I'd even pay you," she blurted out, interrupting him. Sam gave him a pleading look. 

He took it in stride and continued as though she didn't speak out, "... see any problem with that. And you needn't worry about payment, I assure you. I am at your service." 

She beamed. "Thanks. It really means a lot to me. I mean, one doesn't get to be a top-notch science officer by falling behind." 

They both smiled at each other, then Apollo stood up. "Well, if we're to catch you up, I suppose we'd better get started." He gestured, and she got up and walked alongside him toward the campus. "Besides, you could probably help me catch up as well." 

She nodded. "Sure. What do you need help with?" 

"History. Specifically, events ranging from the mid-21st century to the present time," he replied. "I kind of skipped that subject, if you know what I mean." 

She smiled and nodded again, and they walked in silence. When they reached the campus grounds, she turned to him again. "Are you really part Vulcan?" 

He looked at her, purposely arching an eyebrow and causing her to giggle. "Now where have you heard that one?" He smiled when she shrugged at the rumor. "No, I only studied on Vulcan before coming here. You understand, their records on Earth history is somewhat... limited compared to Starfleet records." 

"Oh, of course. I understand completely." More silence. Apollo could tell that she wanted to tell him something else, but as before, he would simply wait until she felt that it was right to bring it up. Unlike before, however, he had no idea what she wanted to say. 

~ * ~ 

They had been at it for hours. Four weeks ago... two weeks into their study sessions... Samantha had started to realize just what she was asking when she wanted Apollo to tutor her. She should have realized that having studied at the Vulcan Science Academy, the foremost subject that he would have no problem with is science. During those three days between the time the infirmary let her go and the time she confronted Apollo, she did a little research on how she could best catch up with her studies. A tutor was her best shot, and she'd heard that Apollo was the best choice in that area. 

She managed to chat a little with Apollo's instructors; seeing someone finally taking an interest in their isolated pupil, they were more than happy to cooperate. They told her that he had an impeccable record at the Academy, and when he was on Vulcan, he had graduated with high honors. She knew it was very rare, though she never actually heard of an instance, where a Vulcan had given a non-Vulcan such a compliment as they gave Apollo; a Vulcan telling a human that they had a good grasp of science was like Zefram Cochrane telling a farm boy that he had a good grasp of warp drive principles. She knew by approaching Apollo that she couldn't have asked for a better student to tutor her. Besides, something told her that he was familiar somehow, but she couldn't place it. 

She shook herself out of her musing when she realized that Apollo was asking her a question. 

"Excuse me, could you repeat that?" 

He raised an eyebrow. "What is the warp drive intermix ratio between matter and anti-matter?" 

She was about to spit out an answer when she stopped herself. "Wait a minute, that's a trick question. There can only be one ratio, one to one." 

"Correct." Apollo thought a moment, then put down his padd. "Are you all right? You seemed to have stepped out for a moment." 

"Oh, I'm fine." she stifled a yawn. "It's just that I'm trying to piece together this puzzle I have in my mind." 

He studied her for a moment. "I've been pushing too hard. I'm sorry. I should have seen that you were getting tired and stopped a while ago." He got up to leave. 

Recognition snapped into her senses. "Wait, wait a minute. What did you just say?" 

He looked at her, puzzled. "I said I was sorry. I pushed you a bit hard." He picked up his padd. "If you'd like, I can tutor you tomorrow after my classes." He turned to go. 

"It's you." she said, quietly; then more firmly, "You were the one." Apollo stopped halfway toward the door and turned around. She had a look on her face as if a door had been opened. "In the infirmary, a medic told me that a cadet came to see me. I remember hearing someone talk to me... when I was lying there in that room. I asked the medic who it was, but he wouldn't say. It was you who visited me, wasn't it?" 

Apollo didn't speak for a couple of moments. Samantha was clearly waiting for an answer, though. He sighed. "Yes. Yes, I showed up at the infirmary. I simply felt that I had to see you." 

Samantha would normally be touched, but she was confused. "Why? From what I gathered, you weren't that outgoing. Why did you visit me? And why when I was in that condition?" 

"I should go," he said, and made for the door. Samantha surprised him by getting up and blocking his way. 

"Why did you visit me?" She wasn't going to back down. "I deserve an answer!" 

Apollo studied the situation. Samantha looked like she bordered between confusion and anger. He decided that he had no choice. "I went to see you... because I saw you fall. And I didn't do anything to prevent it." 

If Samantha wasn't confused before, she sure was now. "What do you mean, you saw me fall. There was no one around to..." 

Apollo cut her off. "I saw you fall... before you fell. I just... didn't realize it at the time." She could clearly tell that it was costing him a great deal to reveal this. She wanted to say something, but decided against it. Seeing this decision in her eyes, Apollo elaborated. "It seems that I have this precognitive ability. I Saw you falling, in my mind;" she noted the emphasis he used on 'saw', "but at the time, I had no idea what the image was or what it meant. I was going to study it later, but I never got the chance. Apparently, the reasons for my visions showed themselves to me. I'm just sorry that I didn't realize it sooner." 

Samantha was too stunned to talk, too stunned to move. So she was unable to stop Apollo from moving around her and out the door. 


	4. Origins Chapter Four

_CHAPTER FOUR_

During his third year at the Academy, things started to turn around. Apollo found himself too busy to worry much about anything. Thanks to his Vulcan studies, Apollo was allowed to lighten his work schedule; there were classes he simply didn't need to take, as he was overqualified for them. Starfleet felt that they shouldn't waste his time by making him take classes either equal to or inferior than the ones he took on Vulcan. That left him open to follow up on Skip's Nova Squadron contacts. If anything, he'd like to be able to fly again. It also gave the scientists at the Academy more time to study Apollo's abilities, which gave Apollo no end of frustration. 

Skip's contacts proved as good as he had claimed. A member of Nova Squadron met with Apollo and discussed the options of becoming a member. A short interview and a test flight later, he was welcomed as one of Starfleet Academy's elite pilot corp. He found that getting back in the cockpit of a single-person craft was just the touch of his past that he needed to feel good again. He had considered himself a hotshot pilot long before the 23rd century; now he had a chance to prove it, and prove it he did. During their first practice session, he easily managed to stay with the group, even improvising on techniques for better performance. Nova Squadron had themselves a new pilot. 

The other thing occupying his time was tutoring. There were several cadet instructors on campus, but Apollo felt that he could best help cadets with a more informal study session. So rather than teach classes that the Academy wanted taught, Apollo helped cadets in areas where they most needed it. More frequently than other cadets, Apollo tutored Samantha. However, their relationship never warmed to anything other than a student-teacher relationship; they wouldn't even allow themselves to become anything as close as friends. 

This wasn't to say that they never tried. However, when they even found the nerve to look at each other, they'd make eye contact, but quickly look away, the courage drained from them. Apollo found that looking in another direction didn't mean that his heart followed him. It was only when he had first arrived on Vulcan that he felt this confused about anything. Logically, one answer was to ask someone for help or advice. But Apollo was too proud and stubborn; he at least kept that much of his old attitude. _Besides which_, he mused, _I only know two people on Earth well enough to talk to. Skip at best wouldn't understand; at worst, he'd give me some lame brained advice that I'd be a fool to follow. Sarek is the other person, except he's a Vulcan, and as Vulcans go, while he knows more about human emotions than most of his kind, excluding his son, he's still pretty much in the dark about how this feeling affects other people; so I can't talk to him. No, it looks like I'm going to have to figure this one out by myself_. Apollo didn't feel very confident about that last thought. Even back on Earth in his time, he paid more attention to his work and his equipment than fashioning some relationship. Now he felt out of place. _Maybe that's what's holding me back. The fact that technically, I'm old enough to be one of her ancestors_. He immediately shook that thought out of his head. It shouldn't make a difference how old he is chronologically; physically, he still had the body of a man in his late twenties. Yes, Apollo was confused, indeed. 

Once he had returned to his dorm room, and found that Skip was graciously absent, he decided to concentrate on the meditation disciplines he learned on Vulcan. He sat at his desk and gradually relaxed until his mind was free of emotional thought. He figured that since he couldn't answer his dilemma right away, he may as well spend the time more usefully, like doing his studies. He always fell back on those when he needed to table his personal problems. _Maybe once I get some more book-learning in me, I'll be focused enough to try to tackle this problem again_. With grim satisfaction, he selected his next subject for study on the viewer. 

~ * ~ 

The reason Skip wasn't in their room was because he had plans of his own. _That lunkhead roomie of mine doesn't know a good thing when he sees her_. He was so sure that when he saw their eyes meet at the restaurant, they were going to hit it off right away. But something happened one night when he went to tutor her. When he returned from that session, he looked like he'd been punched in the stomach by his best friend, which couldn't happen because he never touched Apollo; his eyes looked as if a light went out inside them. _I didn't even realize that in the space of one night a guy could even get knocked so far down the ladder_, he thought. But one thing was for sure. There were a few times when Apollo helped him out, and Skip wasn't about to let him down. 

He knew Apollo wasn't ever going to try and chase her down. Were it any other guy, the trip that Skip was now making would have been to see if she were available, and offer himself as an alternative to a lonely night. But this was Apollo, and even if he was the stiffest human on the campus, he deserved better; thus was the reason for this crusade. If Skip could accomplish anything tonight, he was going to try to get those two to sit down and talk things over. 

He reached Samantha's room, but her roommate, who introduced herself as Karen, said she wasn't in (although Skip was more than welcome to keep her company). He politely refused, stating that he had an urgent message for Samantha; but after he delivered it, he'd see what he could do to take Karen up on her offer. Karen smiled, suggested that he check the library, and Skip was off. 

There weren't that many people in the library, which made it easy to search. After fifteen minutes, though, he saw no sign of her. He was about to give up when he walked by a private study room; the door was ajar (they still used old-fashioned doors in the Academy), which usually meant it was unoccupied, but he heard someone working in there. Curious, he went in. 

He saw Samantha staring intently at a reader screen, its glow the only light in the small room. Skip sneaked in closer to see what she was reading. Apollo's statistics scrolled across the screen. "What are you doing?" he said in a hoarse half-whisper. 

She nearly jumped out of her skin; as it was, she cleared her seat by at least three inches as she gave off a clipped shriek. "WHAT did you do that for!? You scared me half to death!" 

"Small wonder. It's not every cadet that has access to other cadet's files." he said accusingly. 

"I happen to have friends in the Admin Department. They owed me a favor or two." she countered. "What are _you_ doing here?" 

"Looking for you. I have a roommate who happens to be worrying himself into old age." She glared at him. "Look," he said, reading her look, "you can think what you want, but you're not the only person who has other people owing favors to you. There were several times I was one step away from being drop kicked out of the Academy; Apollo was there to save my butt. I consider him my friend, and I'd like to think he considers me one. I can tell which night he tutors you, because when he comes in afterwards, he looks like his dog died. Frankly, I got tired of it, so I came searching for answers." 

Samantha looked at the intense look on Skip's face. She didn't necessarily hide her reservations of Apollo these last few weeks. She made up her mind, closed the file, and shut off the reader. "Come on," she said, getting up and grabbing Skip's arm as she headed for the door, "let's find somewhere more appropriate to talk." 

Skip really didn't think the Academy's cafeteria wasn't any more appropriate than a file room inside the library, but at least they were at an empty table; there were a couple of these in each corner, removed from the main sections, so that people such as Skip and Sam could talk somewhat privately. The place smelled of cleaning solutions, which told Skip that the sanitation crew had already been through. And at such a late hour, the only other people there were night owls anyway, getting a midnight snack while catching up on their studies. 

Samantha gave Skip as much as she knew about what she and Apollo had discussed, as well as what she had found out on her own. "You're saying that Apollo knew in advance that you were going to get injured, and he told you that since he didn't really know the purpose of what he saw at the time, he couldn't prevent what happened to you." Skip said, trying to summarize what he'd been told. 

"That's right," she replied. "That's why I was at the library tonight. It took me this long to finagle a way to see his records." She paused, trying to figure out how to say what she wanted to say next, and just blurted it out. "Did you know that he has an incredibly high psi factor? I've heard of high factors in Vulcans, but not in humans; not that high." 

"What, you're saying he's a Vulcan in disguise?" Skip asked sarcastically. 

"No, simply that it confirmed what he told me. Maybe he really did see me fall in his head before it actually happened." 

"Okay, so he has a little precognitive ability. He obviously doesn't control it, nor is he probably fully aware that it exists." Skip sat back and folded his arms together. "So what has this got to do with putting him down?" 

Samantha sighed, frustrated. "I did _not_ put him down. That night, he left on his own." 

"I'll bet you didn't try very hard to stop him." 

"Why do you care? You never even knew me before that stupid accident, and neither did he. Why can't you both just leave me alone?" Even as she finished saying it, she knew it sounded like she was confused; which she was. 

They both realized that their voices were carrying. They sat in silence until the few people that were in the room resumed their attention on whatever it was that they were doing. Skip made an effort to lower his voice and answered her. "To tell you the truth, I don't know. You said Apollo visited you while you were in the infirmary. Maybe while he was there, something sparked in him. Maybe he did feel responsible, maybe it was something else. But I can tell you one thing." He paused, smirking. "You are rather attractive. And quite frankly, if I see my bud set eyes on someone, I couldn't be happier for him. He's worked his butt off for over two years, and who knows how long he had to endure Vulcan." 

"Four years." Samantha interrupted. 

_Four years_, Skip thought, _no wonder he's such a bookworm!_ "Okay. So he's had six years of studies without what seems to be a single break. Let's also not forget that he's probably still feeling out of place; I mean, the guy's from two hundred years in our past." He paused there, as they both were reminded of how old Apollo actually was. "Hell, I know I've done my share these past couple of years to drag him off for some relaxation. It works some, but not much. Along comes this coincidence; yes, it's too bad he found you like he did, but he did find you. And from what I saw at that restaurant, you saw something interesting in him, and I'm not talking about his smarts." 

She sat there for a minute, thinking of her answer. "Well, it is true that I needed help to catch up on my studies; he is the best candidate for a tutor. I mean, you haven't seen him take many classes lately, have you?" When he shook his head, she continued. "And you're right. He's no troll. But..." She shivered. For some reason, she felt cold. "Looking at his file, remembering what he's told me as well as what others have told me, both truth and rumor; he kind of scares me. I mean, if he can see into the future, what else can he do?" 

Skip took a mental step back. "Whoa, wait a second, I didn't say he could see the future." 

"True, but what if he can? What if he can read thoughts?" 

Skip started to get angry again. "So what if he can? We're talking about a guy who isn't even here to defend himself. There have been people who have had high psis before; no one persecuted them. In fact, I've heard that people with high psis have to learn not to read people's minds or they'll go crazy." 

"Suppose he never learned? He is human, isn't he?" 

This last bit pushed Skip over the edge. This time, he didn't care if his voice carried. "Don't you think Vulcan would have taken care of that?" He shook his head aggressively. "Why do you have to ask around for answers; why do you have to sneak into his file? Maybe if you asked _him_ these questions you have, he just _might_ be more than willing to answer them. Did you ever stop to think of that?" 

More silence. Samantha looked down at the table, realizing just how wrong her actions were. "You're right. I never stopped to think that by protecting my feelings, I might be hurting someone else's." She looked at Skip and gave him a small smile. "You know, you're an awfully good friend to stick up for a guy you don't know that well." 

Skip waved her off. "I know him pretty well. It's just that he has his secrets. Doesn't everybody?" 

"I guess we do. So what do you think I should do?" 

He stood up. "I think you should head over to our room and talk to him right now." He looked at a chronometer on the wall. "But knowing him, he's probably either sleeping or meditating right now, so the best bet would be..." he stopped in mid-sentence. "No. I just decided that I'm not going to tell you what I really think you should do. You have to figure that one out by yourself." He yawned and rose. Her eyes grew wide at his answer. "As for me, I'm going to our room to get some sleep." He started to head out the door before he stopped and looked at her again. "Oh, one more thing. Tell your roommate Karen that I'll contact her tomorrow." He grinned. "She asked me to do her a favor, but it'll have to wait for now." He left her to think real hard about her next actions. 

~ * ~ 

The next day, Apollo was just finishing his last class of the day. He left the building to find Samantha sitting on a bench just outside the door. "Hi," she said. 

If Apollo was startled by her being there, he showed no sign. "Hello. I didn't realize we had a session today." 

"We don't," she replied. "But I felt that we needed to talk." 

"Well, I have practice with Nova Squadron in about three hours..." 

"Perfect. That's plenty of time. Come on." She took his hand before he could walk away and led him to the Academy's park. 

Once there, they found a secluded area and sat down on the grass, where Samantha went right in with what she was practicing to say all day. "Listen, there's something I want to tell you, and I don't want to be interrupted. Will you let me speak?" 

Apollo looked confused. He was rushed to this park, plopped down, and now he was asked to listen to her. He figured that she would explain this action while she talked, so he agreed. She then proceeded to tell him about how she tried to find out more about him, from asking instructors and other cadets about their experiences with him to the little clandestine operation she was involved in when Skip caught her. Apollo never heard any of this from Skip, so he assumed that Skip knew about this conversation. 

Samantha watched Apollo's expressions while she told him about everything she did. When she reached the part where she looked at his file, she winced as he glared at her. "I expected you to react that way. It wasn't very honest of me to do that." 

Apollo simply shook his head. "No, it was not," he agreed. She didn't know just how much he was now using his techniques to hide what he thought of that crusade. "Please, continue." 

"I merely wanted to find out more about you; I honestly didn't intend to hurt you. In fact, as I told your friend, Skip, I never knew you before that accident." She took a breath and continued. "I wanted to learn about you, but I didn't know how to go about it." 

"You could have asked me." 

"I know. Skip even said as much. Well, you're not exactly the easiest person in the world to approach. You carry yourself so coldly, so closed off from everyone else. It made me feel as if I was imposing on you if I asked you about yourself." 

This caught Apollo off-guard. He never thought that he looked that way to other people. "I... never realized that I seemed so aloof to everyone. Please forgive me, I never wanted to alienate anyone. It's just that all my life, my concerns were to do a good job with my work. I never thought that it would consume me." 

"Well, I wouldn't say that you were consumed, but you did seem to go out of your way to stay busy. After all, you had over two hundred years of Earth history that you had never known about. Obviously, you've caught up." 

He nodded. "Yes, that's why I have the free time to be in Nova Squadron, as well as tutor other cadets. You don't realize how much time at the Academy is spent with science until it's not in your curriculum." He sat silent for a moment. Then, taking her hand, he said what he was thinking of. "Samantha, I do forgive you, and I hope that through all this we can be friends." 

She saw this as her chance. "Actually... I hoped we could be more." Samantha hesitated just for a moment. Then she cupped his face with her hand and kissed him. At first, Apollo was startled. He had always envisioned this moment, but never thought it would actually take place. Realizing that it was, he responded, warming to her embrace and returning the gesture in kind. He felt a warmth in his heart that he had never known, and he hoped that the moment wouldn't end. 

Unfortunately, his chronometer had other plans. Interrupted by its chirping, he quickly got up. "I'm sorry, Samantha, I've got to go to practice. Could we, uh, continue this afterward?" 

"Sure, and call me Sam. All my friends do. Where should we meet?" 

"Let's see. How about at the restaurant where we first met?" 

"How about I meet you after practice and we walk there? Then we can get to know each other a little better." 

"Fair enough." he said, flashing her a thumbs-up. He was about to leave when he felt that the gesture wasn't good enough. He rushed up to her and kissed her again. When he headed for the hanger, there was a smile on his face. Suddenly, life seemed a lot better. 


	5. Origins Chapter Five

_CHAPTER FIVE_

"C'mon, Apollo. Tighten up the formation," Nova Leader said. 

"All right, already. Closing in." Apollo slapped the side of his head to clear the cobwebs. He was thinking of Samantha - _Sam_ - all through the afternoon. He shook himself free of his daydream long enough to realize he was on a collision course with an asteroid. Instantly alert, he pulled out of his unintentional suicide run. Each action threatened to drive him through another asteroid, but he avoided each one with a grace more defined with each move. 

"Stop horsing around, Apollo. We know you don't have much to do today, but we'd like to get back to the Academy before graduation." Andrew, Nova Leader, shook his head at the craft making the wild loops through the asteroid field between Mars and Jupiter; but he was shaking it more out of awe than frustration. _Man, he said he could fly, but I never knew he was _this_ good_. 

Apollo left the asteroid field, where the squadron proceeded to finish their maneuvers. As they were returning to Earth, Apollo felt he had to explain himself. "Sorry, guys. I didn't mean to get lost in space up there. It's just that I had a lot on my mind." 

"_Understood,_" came the reply. "_Skip had told us you were having girl problems._" 

Apollo flushed at the affront to his privacy, but the moment quickly passed. "Actually, those problems recently reached a resolution. And frankly," he finished with a mischievous gleam in his eye, "I couldn't feel better." Upon approaching the west coast, Apollo put on a burst of speed and lined up to pass under the Golden Gate Bridge. 

"Apollo, I wouldn't do that if I were you," Andrew said. He then saw a flash on his screen. "Apollo, look out!" 

Apollo looked in time to see a tour shuttle cutting across his path. He jerked up in time to avoid the shuttle, but he grazed the underside of the bridge, sending him out of control. He fought to recover his flight path, while at the same time he headed for the hanger. He felt that he could pull off his stunt yet, regaining control just as he would reach the hanger, he could slide gracefully into his spot. It would probably impress the hell out of his comrades. 

Apollo's luck ran out that day. His craft dipped sharply just inside the Academy grounds and plowed into the earth. Only at the last second was he able to realize his problem; he allowed a calming effect to overtake him, realizing that this could be it. He hit the button that would activate the emergency transporter in his craft, but it was too late. At the last second, he heard a sickening crunch, and blackness overcame him. 

~ * ~ 

The explosion rocked the Academy grounds. Skip was in class when he heard the blast. He looked outside and saw a plume of dark smoke. "Holy shit! What was that!?" he exclaimed. His class rushed outside toward the area he thought was the source. Reaching the spot, and seeing the Nova Squadron crafts - minus one - heading for the hanger, he knew what had happened. A smoking crater a hundred feet long and twenty feet wide disfigured the ground before him. It wasn't long before a crowd gathered, but Skip was headed for the hanger. He intercepted Andrew. "What happened?" he yelled. 

Andrew ran right by him, heading for the infirmary. "It was Apollo," he screamed back. "Gotta hurry! We registered his emergency transporter kick on just as he crashed!" They rushed into the building and headed for the transporter room, followed by the rest of the squadron. 

When they reached the transporter, however, nothing was there. "I don't get it." Skip said. "He should be here, right?" 

A medic shouldered his way into the room. "One side!" he shouted, reaching the console. "Cripes!" he said, looking at the readings. "How he got the thing to work, I couldn't even begin to guess!" The medic started to work the controls. A humming filled the room and a pad on the platform glowed to life. 

"What's he talking about?" Skip said. 

Andrew shook his head. "Well, if we registered his transport correctly, it happened at the exact same time as the crash. Seems that its last duty before it turned to slag was to get him here. Anyone using an emergency transporter will be caught in suspension until a medic can beam him in. That way they can be sure that someone will actually be present when that person arrives." 

"Here he comes," he said. Other medics came in with an anti-grav stretcher. A figure coalesced on the pad, barely recognizable due to his condition. No one could speak, but the medics were galvanized into action. They managed to stabilize Apollo so they could place him on the stretcher and place him in stasis. They rushed down the hall, leaving the crowd behind. 

Skip led the group out into the main waiting room. There was already a small group there; Samantha was one of them. "What happened?" she asked, worried. She looked at Nova Squadron and realized that one of them was missing. She ran up to Skip. "It was Apollo, wasn't it? What happened to him?" She started to head in the direction of the medics. 

Skip caught her by the arm. "Sam, you don't want to go back there." 

His grim statement only got her more worked up. She struggled to free herself, screaming, but Skip held fast, while Andrew ran up and grabbed her other arm. Finally she just collapsed in Skip's arms, sobbing. Skip couldn't help but shed tears himself. He wanted to tell her that he'd be all right. But he saw Apollo on the transporter platform, saw what had happened to him; and he honestly couldn't say anything. 

~ * ~ 

Darkness surrounded him. He fought to find some light. When he did find it, it was hazy, blurred, colored insanely. He couldn't even decide if he was actually seeing anything at all. He tried to speak, but could only gurgle (_Gurgle?_, he thought) a bit. 

One of the doctors working on him heard the sounds. "My God, he's coming to! Put him back under!" 

He struggled to think. _Who was that? Why would they be afraid of me waking up? Why do they want me unconscious?_ It was then, just before he heard the hiss of a hypospray, that his nervous system was overwhelmed by a cascade of pain; together with the sedative, Apollo succumbed to unconsciousness with relief. 


	6. Origins Chapter Six

Origins Chapter 6

_CHAPTER SIX_

Apollo tried several times to regain consciousness, and each time the results were the same. He'd wake up feeling nothing but pain. If anyone were watching the monitor to his room, or if they were in his room, they would make a sound or a gesture and put Apollo under again. After the first day of this behavior, they finally decided to put him in stasis. That way he would remain unconscious without his will trying to force him awake. 

Skip and Samantha visited the infirmary to check on Apollo's condition. They were met by Doctor Bennings; Samantha recognized him as the doctor who worked on her. He told them that Apollo had been severely injured in the crash. "He sustained internal injuries, both his arms and his legs had been crushed in the accident and his face was badly burned. Now, we've stabilized his injuries, but we couldn't do much for his arms and legs; I'm afraid we had to amputate what was left of them. His face was the least of our worries, but by no means are we saying that it wasn't serious. His eyes are swollen shut, but scans show that they're all right." Bennings was extremely severe when he had given them the news. 

"But he will live, right?" Skip said. Had he been joking, Samantha would have clobbered him for asking such a stupid question. But his concern for his friend showed clearly on his face. 

"Oh, yes, he'll live, if you want to call being confined to a wheelchair for the rest of your days living," replied the doctor. 

Samantha looked frantic. "Surely there's another way! I don't think Apollo came this far in the Academy just to be crippled!" 

"I'm sorry, but I don't..." Bennings paused. "Wait a minute. There just may be something we can do." He started to walk away, as if to carry out the idea while it was still fresh in his mind. 

Skip stopped him. "You can't just leave us hanging, doc! What did you have in mind?" 

The doctor turned back to them. "Well, we do have another option. It hasn't exactly been approved yet. We can replace Apollo's limbs with robotic prostheses." 

Skip gave Bennings a weird look. "Robot pro-whatz-its?" 

"Prostheses. Bionic replacements. They're limbs designed to replace normal limbs. They even look like the person's normal limbs. What held us back was how to properly connect the limbs to human tissue. But we've recently overcome that barrier, so hopefully we can all but eliminate wheelchairs." 

Samantha was excited, but she read the doubt in the doctor's voice. "Why do you sound unsure of this?" 

Bennings looked at her sheepishly. "Well... you see, it's still in its experimental stages; the late phase, though. We expect to be completely proficient in this in about a year." 

Skip exploded. "No way, doc! No way you're going to use my bud for a guinea pig!" 

"Well, you certainly don't have to worry about making that decision for him, now do you? I intend to give Apollo the choice and let him decide for himself." 

"You can't be serious." Samantha said. "You honestly expect Apollo to be well enough to make that kind of decision?" 

Bennings shrugged. "He has no other option. He obviously has no family to consult. And we've stabilized him. Once that was done, recovery simply became academic, with or without the prosthetics. What I would wonder is what Apollo thinks he'll be able to do when he fully recovers. Do you think he'll be able to stay in the Academy in the condition he's in now?" 

"It's not unheard of for someone in that shape to be in Starfleet. Why, look at Fleet Captain Christopher Pike. I mean, he..." 

The doctor cut her off. "Captain Pike was a special case. He had a lot of clout because of his accomplishments. Starfleet wouldn't just cut loose a former captain of the starship _Enterprise_. Apollo is just a cadet. They'd let him go in a heartbeat. Now, with new limbs, he could at least perform as an aide to the brass or other such type of administrative position." 

"Yeah, that's all he needs; to be cooped up behind a desk. I didn't learn a lot about Apollo, but what I do know is that he doesn't belong in a desk job," Samantha said, on the verge of tears. 

Skip put a hand on her shoulder. "I have to agree with the doctor. Apollo may be crippled, but at least he won't need to be cooped up in some wheelchair. He'll still be able to lead a fairly normal life." He looked at Bennings. "But could we at least talk to him?" 

"I don't see why not. It'll take a few days to figure out how we'll go about this. You should be able to see him before then. But for today, at least, he should be undisturbed." Bennings walked away. 

"C'mon, Sam, let's go." Skip led her out of the infirmary. 

On their way back to the dorms, Samantha turned to Skip. "You know, something is going on that I just don't understand. I really don't know Apollo that well. So why do I get so emotional about him?" 

Skip simply shrugged. "Hey, it happens. I don't know why or how, and I don't bother trying to figure it out. Something sparked between you and Apollo, and you two spent just enough time to fan that spark into a flame, at least that's what I think. I only hope that those doctors make the right decisions." 

~ * ~ 

This time when Apollo woke up, he wasn't put back under. He couldn't see; everything was still pitch black. _Is it night time?_ he asked himself. He tried to raise a hand to his forehead. The thought was there, but the action wasn't carried out. _Why have they restrained me?_ He tried to flex his fingers; even that little act was prevented. He thought he could still feel his hands. He tried moving his feet. That, like his hands, proved ineffective. _Funny,_ he mused, _I can feel them, but it's almost as if they're... not there. Why can't I move anything? Why can't I see anything? There should at least be light from a window, unless my room has no windows._ He struggled; again it seemed that he wasn't restrained, but he just couldn't move anything. 

Then he heard the door open. "Who's there?" he asked. He meant the question to sound firm and commanding. It came out weak and cracked. 

"Ah. I see you're awake. My name is Dr. Bennings, and you, cadet, are a very lucky man." 

Apollo sat there thinking for a moment. "I can remember flying... a collision... the ground was coming up fast... I slammed my fist down on the emergency transport button. Am I all right?" 

Bennings nodded, then realized that Apollo couldn't see him. "If you can remember that, then I can be relieved. You haven't suffered any memory loss or brain damage." 

"I'm not so sure, doctor. I've had these weird dreams. I kept waking up, trying to say something, but it was like trying to talk underwater. Hurt like hell, too. Then I'd conk out again." 

Bennings noticed that nothing slipped by Apollo. He decided to be straight forward. "Those weren't dreams. You were in a serious accident. Like I said, you were lucky; it was amazing that you survived such a crash." The doctor paused, taking a deep breath. "You no doubt wonder why you can't move." He noticed Apollo's feeble attempt at a nod. "You aren't being restrained, at least not by us. Apollo... your arms and legs were crushed in the accident. I'm afraid we couldn't save them." 

The room was very silent as Apollo let the information sink in. "I... see. Or rather, I can't see. Did I lose my eyesight, too?" 

"No, no. Your face was badly burned, but your eyes were intact. Those bandages will come off in a couple of days. We've also taken care of any other injuries you incurred." 

"Except my arms and legs." 

"Yes, well, as I said, there was little we could do for them." He watched Apollo nervously. "Is there... anything you need at this time?" 

More silence. "Yes. You could leave me alone now," Apollo said, calmly and evenly. 

Bennings moved toward the door. "If you need anything else, just speak up. A medic will show up for you." 

"Thank you, doctor." 

Bennings went outside, but stopped and looked in the window next to the doors. He expected screams, crying, anything to reveal what Apollo was feeling right now. But the figure on the bed simply laid there, looking as if he'd just simply fallen asleep. Frankly, he didn't know which reaction was worse. 

~ * ~ 

Sam entered Apollo's room later that week. She had tried to go in before, but just seeing him was enough to cause her to run back out. Now she felt she had enough courage to go to him. She saw him lying in bed; the bandages were off his eyes, but they were still a little swollen. An oxygen tube was taped under his nose. His bed covers, which should have formed little tents where his arms and legs should be, lay flat on the bed. 

A tear started to roll down her cheek. _He looks so... incomplete. I almost can't bear to see him this way._ She managed, though, to walk to his bedside. "Hi," she said weakly. There was no answer from the still form. "Thought I'd stop by to see how you were doing." She paused, clearly uncomfortable. "I... I guess the tables are turned now, huh. Me coming to see you instead of the other way around." 

She slowly paced the room. She clearly had something to say, but it took some effort for her to speak. "Why didn't you see it? Dammit, you saw when I was going to get hurt! Why couldn't you see your own accident?" Her voice rose with her temper. "After all this time, I thought we were finally going to get somewhere with our relationship! Why do you have to do this to yourself!?" Tears streamed down her face, but she didn't care. "I fall in love with you and you respond by nearly getting yourself killed!" Sam dropped into a chair by the bed and placed her face in her hands. 

After a while she got up and wordlessly left the room. She didn't notice the single tear make its way down Apollo's head to soak into his pillow. 

~ * ~ 

Within the next two months, tests were conducted on the newly constructed limbs and the compatibility between them and Apollo. When it was determined that Apollo would have no problem with rejection, Bennings assembled his team and performed the operation. 

Two days after the operation, Apollo opened his eyes and immediately realized that something was different. He managed to raise his head and look down himself. The sheet indicated he once again had limbs. He tried to move his legs, but all he could get out of them was a twitch in one of his feet. He couldn't even get that from a finger when he put the same effort into moving his arms. The cadet felt completely paralyzed. 

"Ah. I see you're awake." Apollo looked toward the voice and saw Bennings, who just walked into the room. He also realized that the doctor said the exact same thing the last time he visited; in fact, he seemed to say that every time he came in. "You've also no doubt noticed that you're somewhat whole again." 

Apollo grimaced. "It's great for looks. But something seems wrong. I can't move them." 

Bennings had a surprised look on his face. "Oho, so my patient thinks that he can just get up and walk away, does he?" He sat on Apollo's bed, leaned in, and gave him a hard look. "Now listen up. I'm by no means finished with you. Before we can even think about giving you a clean bill of health, we need to put you into therapy. Once you can move those things, I can make the final adjustments on them." 

"Final adjustments? I thought they were finished." 

"Oh, sure, it's simple enough to put them on you. The tricky part will be to calibrate them so that you can use them with a minimum of trouble." Bennings saw the question on Apollo's face before his patient could ask it, so he continued. "When you use your new limbs, there will be a slight time lag between the command your brain gives them to move and the actual movement. By studying your therapy, we'll be able to adjust your limbs so that there will be as little of a pause as possible. I've theorized that if we do it right, it will be no more than a second or two." 

Apollo thought about that. "So basically what you're saying is that whatever my normal response time would have been, I now have to add a second to that?" 

"Yes, that's about right. Doesn't sound too bad, does it?" 

"No. I suppose it doesn't, from a certain point of view." 

"A certain point of view? Now what is that supposed to mean." 

Apollo looked him square in the eye. "It means that my days in Nova Squadron, and possibly Starfleet, are over. When it comes to making quick decisions, a lot can happen in one second." He turned away to look out the window. "On the other hand, it beats not having any arms or legs at all." 

Bennings wanted to comment on that, but he honestly didn't know what to say to it. "Your first therapy session is tomorrow. I want to get you on your feet as soon as I possibly can. In the meantime, I want you to get some rest. You're going to need it." Bennings left the room, leaving Apollo with his own thoughts. 

~ * ~ 

The next time Sam got the nerve to visit Apollo, Skip went with her; he figured if he didn't go with her, she'd change her mind. Apollo had been working on his therapy for three weeks now. They found him in the gym, walking between two balance beams; his movements were stiff and jerky, but he made no move to grasp the bars on either side. "Slow down, buddy." Skip called out to him. "The Academy will still be here when you finish your therapy." 

Apollo gave his friend a mock glare. "And I suppose you persuaded the faculty to postpone all classes until I'm better." Skip smiled, and he returned it. He then looked at Sam. "Hi." 

"Hi," she returned. "Feeling better?" 

"Almost. I get tired by the end of the day. The doctor says I should be released soon. Maybe we can do something by then." 

"Sure, maybe," Sam said. Apollo could tell that her attention wasn't entirely in the here and now. "Skip, would you mind..." 

"Man, I'm real thirsty. I could use a drink. Sam, Apollo, you want something?" Skip said, immediately picking up on Sam's request. 

"I'll have some juice, thanks," he replied. Sam just shook her head. As Skip went off, Apollo got her full attention. "What's wrong?" 

Sam shivered. "It's that I keep thinking about the day I was in your room and you..." 

"I know, I probably didn't look my best at the time. But just wait. Before long..." He looked into her eyes. "You're afraid of me, aren't you?" 

"Apollo, I didn't say..." 

"You're afraid that I'm more machine than man, is that it?" 

Sam's eyes widened. "Are you reading my mind? I thought you weren't supposed to do that?" 

Apollo shook his head. "I don't need to read your mind. The look in your eyes told me as much." He struggled to find what to say next. "Let me assure you, I'm no less the man than I was before. Do you want to know why?" As he was talking to Sam, Apollo noticed that her gaze fell to the floor. _To my legs_, Apollo thought. Slowly, he raised his hand under her chin and gently tilted her head up, so she was looking him in the eyes. He then pointed to his chest. "It's what's here. I still have my heart, and while my heart is human, I'll be human." 

Sam looked a little reassured. Skip showed up carrying two glasses. He handed one to Apollo, who carefully gripped it. "There you go, buddy. Everything okay?" Sam nodded. Apollo simply took a drink. "Good, then what I have to say will be a little easier." Skip suddenly had Apollo's full attention. "Apollo, I heard some scuttlebutt around the campus." Skip grew skittish, but he continued. "They're saying that you're... uh... going to be dropped from the Academy." 

Apollo's face went slack. "They're what?!" 

"They feel that your injuries were cause enough for..." Skip was interrupted by a loud crack as Apollo's grip tightened around his glass to a point where it shattered in his grasp, sending glass and juice flying everywhere. 

It was enough for Sam to jump. She looked forlornly at Apollo. "We're... I'm so sorry." She turned and ran out of the gym. 

"Sam, wait!" Apollo called after her. He tried to run, but his legs didn't move fast enough. His change in momentum caused him to pitch forward and fall to the floor. Skip took a step toward the door Sam had exited, paused, then turned back to help Apollo back up. "Are you okay, Apollo?" 

Apollo was fuming so much with rage that he was sputtering. "Why did she run? WHY!" He brought his arm down on one of the balancing bars, breaking it in two. He then yanked himself out of Skip's grip and started hobbling toward another exit. "I'm going to get to the bottom of this. If I have to go to the Commandant's office, damn it, I'll get to the bottom of this." 

For a moment, Skip wondered what to do. Then he made a decision. "Wait! Apollo, wait for me!" He quickly caught up with Apollo. _Sheesh,_ he thought, _as stiff as he walks, he sure can move fast._

~ * ~ 

Skip carried Apollo's padd as they walked to Apollo's next class. Skip was having trouble keeping Apollo's pace; it wasn't that Apollo was going too fast, rather the contrary. After six more weeks of therapy, Apollo could still only move in jerks as the commands from his mind strove to make it to his legs. Unfortunately, Dr. Bennings said that he couldn't calibrate the limbs any better than they were. 

Skip heard Apollo curse under his breath. "Stupid bloody things." 

Skip simply shook his head. "C'mon, now. At least you're up and around. It could be worse. I mean, you might not even have to worry about your next class." That day of the incident in the gym, they headed toward the office of one of the head instructors. He had told them yes, releasing Apollo from the Academy was an option. After an hour of persuasion and debate, the instructor notified the other head instructors of their conversation. By the next day, Apollo had received word that he would indeed remain in the Academy at least until the end of the year. 

Apollo laughed; to Skip it sounded more like a cough. "I could also be in a wheelchair. I'd have been in the classroom by now. I walk like a damn robot from an old movie. Hell, all this jerking around gives me a damn headache. I can't even hold my padd because I haven't yet learned to hold anything without crushing it. How could it possibly be worse?" 

Skip smiled. "You could be dead. Then who would I have to complain to me?" 

Skip's smile was infectious, and soon the corners of Apollo's mouth turned upward. "You're right, of course. I'd smack you, but I'd probably knock myself over in the process." 

"Now, that might not be a bad sight, though you'd probably take my head off in the process. But tell me, why are you taking Engineering? I figured with your condition, you wouldn't be of much use as an engineer." 

Apollo smiled and looked to the sky. "My dear Skippy. In Ancient Mythology, it is said that the Greek god Hephaestus, whose Roman name, appropriately, is Vulcan, was lame, yet he was the most skilled craftsman in Mount Olympus. He crafted Athena an owl out of silver, gold, and jewels, and it flew like a living thing. Surely a couple of glorified stilts can't keep me back." 

Skip looked askance at his friend. "You know, you seem to be taking this awfully well." 

Apollo's face slipped into that stoic Vulcan expression that he's often used. "Why shouldn't I? I was forced into this situation through my own clumsiness; I may as well make the best of it. Sure, I'll complain at times when I feel that these things are being frustratingly inconvenient, but as you said, I am alive. I should be grateful." He took on a shifty look, darting glances from side to side, and he lowered his voice. "Besides, I have a plan." 

This last statement caught Skip off guard. "Plan? What plan?" 

"I haven't completely figured out every detail yet, but when I'm ready, you'll find out about it," he emphasized his reply with a wink. Apollo looked up and saw his destination in front of him. "Ah, after several years, I arrive." They entered the building, and when they reached Apollo's classroom, Skip put the padd down on the table. "Thank you. I'd shake your hand..." 

"...but I'm gonna need it for later." Skip finished. "No problem. I'll come back after my class and help you back to the dorm." 

"Thanks." Apollo said, and waved at Skip as he walked out and the instructor came in. 

~ * ~ 

Skip returned to the engineering building, but Apollo wasn't in the classroom. A short search showed that he was one of the labs. He appeared to have finished a project, because he was managing to put away some tools. He turned to see who entered. "Ahh. Perfect timing. I was just finishing up for today. Shall we go?" He handed his padd to Skip. There were small dents on the edge of the padd, and Skip pointed them out to Apollo. "Damn. That's where I picked it up earlier. I'm trying to gauge the right pressure to use, but I still get it wrong." 

Skip whistled. "I see. Well, where to now? Our dorm? Sam's place?" 

Apollo shook his head. "No, it's the infirmary tonight. Dr. Bennings and I have been working on a way to eliminate the time lag in my limbs' actions. If our theory works, I'll have full motor abilities returned to me." 

Skip's demeanor brightened. "Apollo, that's great! How do you plan on doing it?" 

"Bennings is going to hardwire my limbs to my spinal cord, or something like that." 

Skip stopped dead in his tracks. Apollo's padd dropped to the floor. "Whoa, buddy. That sounds a bit dangerous, messing with your spinal cord. You sure you want to do this?" 

Apollo looked pensive. "I agree, there is some... risk." With effort, Apollo managed to turn to face Skip. "But if it works, you'd never know that my limbs are artificial; I'd actually have normal movement again." 

Skip still looked skeptical. "Uh huh. And if it doesn't work..." he prompted. Apollo was silent. "Well?!" 

"I... could be paralyzed, limbs or no." 

"_Apollo!_" 

"No, I've made up my mind. I've always been one to go for broke, and I'm not going to let this situation change that. I'm going through with it." 

Skip studied Apollo for a moment. "Does Sam know about this?" 

Apollo met Skip's eyes and held his gaze, searching, and came to a decision. "No. And she's not going to know. At least, not unless it's successful. Is that clear?" 

His friend took a deep breath, then let it out and nodded. "You know, you're taking an awfully big chance." 

Apollo nodded. "I know. But I've thought about it, and I'm going to go for it. I have a good feeling about this." 

Skip threw his hands in the air. "Oh. Well. That decides it. I guess since you have a good feeling about this, then it must be okay." The sarcasm hung between the two of them. "Hell, with or without me, you'd do this anyway. I suppose this was your plan." 

"Yeah, pretty much. Although the doctor was working on just such an idea when I brought it up to him." 

"Well, all right. Let's go see Bennings." 

~ * ~ 

Two weeks went by, and Apollo returned from the infirmary. Skip looked up from his studying as his friend walked into the room. "Well, well. Hello, stranger. Don't think I've seen you around these parts. Say, you haven't seen a friend of mine, have you? About your height, has your looks, walks like he was a puppet and someone was jerking his strings?" 

Apollo stood there and acted like he was thinking real hard. Then he shook his head and walked over to his bed, where he sat down. "Nope, haven't seen him." 

Skip's eyes grew wide. "Hey! It worked! Your little experiment worked!" 

Apollo slipped into a Vulcan attitude, one he knew that severely ticked off his friend. "I fail to see how you could have thought differently. After all, the choices I had laid out when I accepted this plan were either success or paralysis. Since I moved into the room with no trouble, I would surmise that the former would be correct." Apollo received a pillow in his face for his troubles. 

"Wow, I just can't believe it. You mean he actually connected those things right into your spinal cord? Doesn't it feel different?" 

Apollo shook his head after he got it out of the pillow. "It doesn't feel too differently. I mean, I can't feel pleasure or pain through my limbs, but I do receive sensory inputs from them. It's kind of like how your foot falls asleep, and you can't feel anything with it, but you know how much weight to put on it without falling flat on your face." 

Skip shook his head in awe. "Bennings could write a paper on this one. Maybe even get a prize." 

Apollo immediately had a somber expression, and violently shook his head. "No! No, no one must know of this. The procedure I went through was purely experimental, still in its formative stage. The medical community pretty much frowns on what Bennings just did for me. At least, they do now. When the procedure is allowed to naturally come forth, Bennings will be seen as a genius. But for now, it must remain secret. Understand?" 

Skip looked at Apollo and decided that this was no time to be joking. He simply nodded. "I understand. I won't say a word. But Apollo..." he urged, "Sam has to know. She's been worried sick, and I frankly didn't know what to tell her. But I kept what you were doing a secret, told her you were having problems and that they had you isolated to work on you. As much as I felt against it." 

Apollo thought about it for a moment. "I understand, and I owe you. I'll figure something out; but for now, I need some rest." He reduced the lights so that Skip only had light over the desk where he was studying. "Good night, my friend, and... thanks. For being there." Apollo laid back, and within moments was softly snoring in the darkness. 

Skip shook his head and muttered under his breath. "No problem. Sheesh. All that time in the infirmary, you'd think they'd have been able to stop him from making all that damn noise when he sleeps." He shrugged and returned to his book. 

~ * ~ 

Sam was in the library working on an essay for her astrophysics class. Without warning, her screen cleared. "Hey, what the..." she hissed, lightly rapping the terminal. Suddenly, a confirmation message flashed on her screen. The message stated that she had reserved a hover vehicle for a trip to the coast set for tomorrow. She was immediately perplexed. _Funny. I don't remember scheduling a trip to the coast._ She sighed. _Maybe I've been pushing myself too hard; either that, or someone's playing a very cruel joke on me._ She thought about it a little more. _Still, it does sound like something I could use_. Curious, she acknowledged the message. The time and departure route showed up; she acknowledged that, too. Her screen then cleared again and returned to her essay. _Huh, that was weird_. She shrugged and continued her work. 

The next day, she trotted over to the hover rental place outside the Academy, where she found that everything was already taken care of. She didn't recall paying in advance, either, and she was getting a bit suspicious, but when she arrived and gave the clerk her name, he perked up and gave her the control card for a vehicle. "It's all prepped and waiting for you at the end of the lot, Ms. Taylor." She absently nodded and took the card. "Have a nice trip," he said to her on the way out. 

She found the route relaxing enough; it took her through all the scenic areas. When she reached a specific spot near the beach, the hover vehicle landed. Sam got out and found that she was near a changing station. She switched into a two-piece bathing suit she found in the passenger seat of the vehicle. She looked down at herself and, admiring the cut and color of the suit, started on a nice, slow stroll along the shoreline, allowing the waves to lap against her feet and a soft breeze coming of the water to tickle her skin. 

She walked for nearly a kilometer or two before she heard a voice call out, "The water's not too cold for you, is it?" 

She turned toward the voice to see Apollo stretched out on a flat rock, wearing swimming trunks. If she hadn't known what had happened to him over the last few months, she would have never been able to tell that he had been through anything. She walked over to him, slightly unsure of the sight before her. "Apollo? Is that really you?" 

She was shocked by the response when he sat up and flipped off the rock to land nimbly on his feet. "Now, what do you think?" He flashed her a smile that she just couldn't refuse. All her fears about him seemed to melt away as she ran up to him and jumped into his arms. Their lips met as he gently held her. "Shall we?" He said, offering his arm. She took it and they walked down the beach together. 

"Apollo, I'm so happy that you're better. But how? The doctor said..." 

"I know," he said, interrupting her. "That's one of the reasons why I asked you out here." 

Pieces fit into place. "I kind of figured you arranged this trip for me, sent the confirmation message, rented the vehicle, even planned the route I took," she said. 

Apollo nodded. "That's right. I needed to talk with you alone, without any prying ears. And... I figured you should enjoy yourself along the way." 

"What was so important that you had to talk to me here?" She looked at him slyly. "You're not going to propose to me in an attempt to smooth things over, are you?" 

Apollo acted shocked. "Why, whatever would make you think that? But seriously, no, that's not the reason. I just felt that you should know how I received my good fortune." Apollo then proceeded to tell her the whole story, from the plan's conception right up to his little talk with Skip. Sam was startled at some points, but understanding showed more and more prominent in her expression as Apollo explained. When he finished, he stopped and looked deeply into her eyes. "So, now that you know the whole story, and you should also know, by the way, that this secret must be kept at all costs, what do you think? Will it affect our relationship in any way?" 

Sam thought for a moment. "Well... What I think is that you were pretty brave for going through with the procedure, and more than a little foolish, considering the risks you put yourself through." She edged closer to him. "As for our relationship..." She reached up and pulled him lower so she could tenderly kiss him. "I don't think there's anything to worry about." They lowered themselves to the ground, and as the sun set and the tide went out, their passion rose with the full moon. 


	7. Origins Chapter Seven

_CHAPTER SEVEN_

It was nearing the end of Apollo's third year. His studies were light, his tutoring sessions were productive, and best of all, he and Sam were enjoying a relationship that a year and a half ago he never thought he would have. In his eyes, his life couldn't have been better. 

He entered his room after a long day, ready to flop down on his bed and relax. But he caught himself in midfall. On his terminal, the words "Message Waiting" flashed in bright blue on the screen. He moved over to the desk and activated the message. As he read the words, Skip walked in. 

"Hey, hey, pal of mine. What's going on?" Skip said, feeling cheerful today. He wasn't doing too badly with Sam's roommate, Karen, either. He stopped in his tracks when he saw the concerned look on Apollo's face. "What's wrong?" 

"I don't know." Apollo replied, not taking his eyes off his terminal. He pointed to the screen where the message burned. "I just came in myself when I noticed that I had a message." He turned to face Skip. "The message is from Starfleet Command. Admiral Komack wants to see me." 

Skip slowly backed up until the backs of his legs hit his bed; he then slowly sat down. "Wow," he said in a voice of awe. "The big guy wants to see my roomie. I wonder what for." 

Apollo shrugged. "I don't know. But if one gets a message from above, there are two things he can do: he can ignore it, and accept whatever consequences befall him..." he stepped toward the door and opened it, "... or he can satisfy his curiosity, and heed the message." On that note, Apollo stepped out and shut the door behind him. 

"...and accept whatever consequences befall him." Skip concluded for him. 

~ * ~ 

_Why does Starfleet Headquarters seem larger than it was when I first saw it_, Apollo wondered as he approached the massive complex. Starfleet Command covered a vast stretch of land next to San Francisco Bay. The building were a lot more streamlined than Apollo had seen on Earth during his time. The Academy, south of Headquarters easily took up most of the space with its many instructional buildings. The infirmary was off to Apollo's left. The Administration building to his right was huge, designed solely to impress the people approaching it. The either front face of the building consisted of massive flagpoles flying high over the sheltered entrance. A flag from each world of the Federation flew from the its own pole; the seal of the Federation shone in silver and gold in the center of the building's face, near the top. 

The Headquarters building, for which Apollo was heading, reminded him of that high rise building from the Jetsons, although it was only a few stories tall. A huge, wonderfully designed fountain, several meters in diameter, sprayed jets of water high into the air. 

_Maybe it's the fact that when I came here with Sarek, I was still thinking in a Vulcan way, so it didn't seem so impressive. It also helped that I had one of the Federation's most respected ambassadors by my side. Now that I'm here alone..._ He had a better sense of the size of the Command grounds as he watched hover vehicles flit from one building to another; but there were still people, like himself, who preferred to walk. No one had to worry about it raining on them, either. The one thing Apollo still couldn't get over was the fact that Earth had finally managed to control its weather, though it did take the fun out of some things. _Uh, sorry, dear. We can't have that picnic today. They have a downpour scheduled for three. Let's do it tomorrow_. He chuckled to himself, took a deep breath, cracked his knuckles - except his new knuckles wouldn't crack, he bitterly noted - and entered the building he needed. 

The interior was done entirely in Starfleet gray, the doors all painted red. After a short distance, it seemed as though Apollo were traveling in circles, as one door looked just like another. However, he reached Admiral Komack's office in a short time. Without Sarek with Apollo as he entered the aide's office, the admiral's aide was able to maintain his bearing as he was approached by the cadet. He looked up from his work, saw Apollo, and activated the intercom. "Admiral, sir, the cadet you were expecting is here to see you." 

"_Send him in_," came the reply. Accepting the aide's nod as admittance, Apollo stepped forward, and the door slid aside to allow him to enter. Admiral Komack stood to greet him. The scene didn't look all that much different from the scene about three years ago. Apollo reached the front of his desk and snapped to attention. "Hello, cadet," the admiral said. He took in Apollo's appearance at a glance. "As you were, son. No need to dispense with that here." Upon seeing Apollo relax, he proffered a hand, which Apollo shook. "Please, sit down." 

Apollo took the seat behind him. "May I speak frankly, sir?" 

"Always, son." replied Komack. 

Apollo cocked his head. "Son? With all due respect, sir, I believe I do have a few years on you." 

The admiral let out a laugh that caught Apollo off guard. "That's right. You are older than I am, aren't you? Well, I only meant it figuratively. I see any cadet as a child of Starfleet." 

_God! How corny,_ Apollo thought. He almost decided to project that thought to the admiral, if only it didn't give away his secret. "I received your message, sir. Did you wish to see me for something? Have I done anything wrong?" 

Komack smiled. "No, you haven't done anything wrong, nothing at all. I just thought I'd get in touch with you, discuss your progress. After all, when ambassador Sarek recommends a student for the Academy, I don't take that recommendation lightly." 

Apollo seemed skeptical. "If that were the case, why haven't you contacted me before this time?" 

"Well, to be blunt, you're not _that_ important. I do have other duties besides keeping track of cadets' progress. Besides, with the problems you've had this past year, I didn't feel it was appropriate." He took in Apollo's expression of concerned understanding. "Yes, I know about the accident. In fact, I even know of Dr. Bennings'... unorthodox... way of restoring you to full health. No need to worry, we haven't punished him. On the contrary, we've commended him. Starfleet knows that it can't punish someone for making great strides in the improvement of humanity, even if it does bend some rules now and then. I'm just sorry that you were the guinea pig for it, but as they say, you were in the right place at the right time." 

Apollo shrugged. "I can't complain. I haven't had any problems since the operation. In fact, they feel better than before." 

"Better? How so?" 

The cadet felt compelled to tell the truth. "Well, sir, the limbs aren't exactly the same as the specifications imply. I've, uh, made some adjustments to them." 

Komack looked concerned. "What kind of adjustments." 

Apollo had to think for a moment for the best wording. "Let's just say I did a little fine tuning." It didn't look as if Komack would accept that as an answer, so he continued. "You see, I would work with my limbs, and somewhere, they just wouldn't... feel right. So I adjusted them until they did." 

"Interesting. And just how well do you think you 'fixed' them?" 

"Well, for one thing, there's virtually no lag in my response time. In fact, I think I actually improved it from my original time. I haven't really experienced anything else, at least in the way of side effects or anything." 

Komack sat back, impressed. "I... see. So you're saying that a third-year cadet managed to make improvements on technology that took a team of scientists to develop; and to do it in the space of a couple of months when it took them years." 

Apollo gave him a sheepish look. "Well, as you said, I was a guinea pig, and I'd like to think that I know pretty much how they affect my body better than anyone else would know." 

Komack leaned forward and clasped his hands on his desk. "Yes. Yes, this is true. Anyway, that was only part of the reason why I asked you here." He sat back in his chair and gave Apollo a steely look. "Cadet, just what do you intend to do with your future in Starfleet?" 

Apollo looked confused. "Sir?" was all he allowed out of his mouth. _What is he getting at?_ was what was going on in his head. 

Komack noticed his confusion. "What do you plan to become when you graduate from the Academy?" he elaborated. 

Apollo had to take some time to think about it. He and Skip had discussed this several times before. "Well, sir, I was thinking of becoming a science officer, or maybe a pilot. I can fly those small ships easily enough. Hell, I could probably even helm a starship if I set my mind to it. Though to be honest, sir, after I had my accident, I figured my days in Starfleet were numbered. I'm actually surprised I've been able to stay." 

"Yes, well, I'd have to say you're very lucky." Komack sat there a moment, absorbing Apollo's answer. "Do you want to know what I think?" He took the cadet's silence as a yes, so he continued. "I see a waste of material in both those choices." 

Apollo was startled, but held it in. "Might I ask the basis of that opinion, sir?" 

Komack took a deep breath. "You said that you could helm a starship if you set your mind to it. Well, I think your setting your sights a little too low. I think you can do better than that." 

Apollo decided that a little ego inflation couldn't hurt at this point. "Well, in the discussion with a friend of mine, he told me that he saw me as an individual more comfortable with giving orders than taking them." 

"Your friend has remarkable insight." 

"Come again?" 

Komack took another deep breath. He got up and started pacing. "Racer, I'm going to come right out and say it. How would you like taking Command courses for your final year?" 

Apollo stammered, so Komack continued. "You've proven that you can handle the normal workload. Hell, you're tutoring about a quarter of your class in science. I'm sure that they can do without you for a couple of hours per day." 

"Sir, I don't know what to say." 

"Then don't say anything. Take the course. Like any other course, you'll have the option of dropping out if it gets to be too much, though I doubt it'll come to that. What do you say?" He held out his hand. 

"What can I say? I'll give it a try. Thank you, sir." He shook the proffered hand. 

"Glad to hear it. And I swear, if you so much as move toward standing at attention to leave, I'll personally and physically boot your butt out of my office." He said it with a smile, but Apollo could tell he was serious. 

"Yes, sir. Good day, sir." Apollo briskly walked out of the office and practically floated back to his dorm. 

~ * ~ 

In his first Command class, Apollo couldn't help but feel a little apprehension. Yes, he'd taken leadership courses before, but that was over 200 years ago, and it was necessary for the rank he held. He was still thinking about how different this would be, when the instructor marched through the door. Like his other instructors, she was a captain. Unlike the others, when they stood at attention, she did not dismiss their actions. Instead, she let them stand there for a few minutes; she walked down the ranks, looking each of her cadets in the face, scanning them, as if she could tell by just how they stood there what type of students she was getting. "All right," she finally said, "take your seats." 

As the cadets sat down, she introduced herself. "My name is Captain Quinn, and I'm to be your instructor for the next few weeks." She paced the room. "Let's see if you know why you're taking this course." She looked around the room for a volunteer. A hand went up. "Yes, Cadet Racer." 

Apollo stood. "I'm following the suggestion of a superior officer, sir." He got a laugh from the rest of the class, but Quinn glared daggers at him. Suddenly, Apollo had the feeling he shouldn't have made that wisecrack. 

"You were following orders, is that it, cadet?" she said, slowly and deliberately. She walked right up to him and looked him in the eye. "I'm going to like working with you. It really gives me a thrill to break class clowns." She started pacing again. "I suppose you feel that you don't need this class; oh yes, I've seen your file. You think that your 'many years' of experience has you all set for command, is that it?" Apollo could have said that her assumption was wrong, but he felt that it would be a fatal mistake, so he allowed her to continue. "In my eyes, mister, you have a handicap. All that you learned about leadership back then, you'll have to unlearn, and you can bet your boots that I'll be watching you. Now sit down, you're giving me a headache." 

Apollo sat down and silently gulped. _Yep, I'm definitely in trouble,_ he thought. 

~ * ~ 

It turned out be easier than he expected. As long as he made sure that his attitude was in check, a task simplified by his Vulcan disciplines, he should do fine. Granted, meetings between him and Sam, as well as tutoring sessions, were somewhat curtailed by studying, but he expected it. He wasn't as learned in command functions as he was in science, and Captain Quinn wasn't making things any easier. When the class had projects to accomplish, she made sure he had the most difficult part of the project; there also happened to be an uneven number of cadets in the class, so when she paired them up to do a group project, she always made Apollo the odd one out. Then she wouldn't excuse his work just because he didn't have a partner. He didn't give her the satisfaction of failing her, however. Rather, he worked twice as hard to ensure his success, which gained the respect of his classmates. 

Quinn looked on as her cadets completed her latest project. She especially kept an eye on Apollo. _Blast him_, she thought, _I try to teach him a lesson, make an example out of him in front of the class, but he keeps proving himself. Still, I have to admit, I was rather impressed with his last results. He seems to be pretty sure of what he's doing, but other than that, he's an enigma_. She decided to fix that. The cadets finished their project as class time expired. As they headed toward the door, she called out. "Racer, front and center." 

Apollo glanced at his classmates. They pretended to take no notice of him, but he knew what they were thinking, because he was thinking the same thing. _What have I done wrong now? I swear, the woman told me she'd go out of her way to draw me out, and she's proven good to her word. I wonder if she's thought of a new trial for me. _ As she gestured for him to enter her office, he did so, taking pains to walk around her when he did. 

She shut the door behind him and gestured to the seat in front of the desk. He took it as she sat down in her own seat. She cut right to the quick. "Well, Racer, I suppose you think you're pretty good." 

"Sir?" was his only reply. He was going to make her play her cards first. 

"I've done everything in my power to make it nearly impossible for you here, and all you do is prove me wrong. What does that make me think, Racer?" 

"Well, sir, if I may be allowed to speak freely..." 

She gave him a backhanded wave. "Go right ahead." 

He straightened and took a deep breath. "I really don't know what you think, but I'd like to tell you what I think." _Here goes nothing, but she asked for it_, he added silently, taking a deep dreath. "For the past three weeks, you've done, as you say, everything you could to make me quit; everything from giving me the hardest tasks in projects to even leaving me out of projects, veiling it in a suggestion that I be a detached observer, to watch the project from an objective point of view. Every time I've proven myself, and every time you're not satisfied, and you try and give me something even harder to do." He paused to see if she had any comment. Hearing none, he continued. "I realize that the comment I made in the beginning of the year was off the wall and completely inappropriate, but I think that a grudge should only carry on for so long, if it should even be carried at all. It should be clear to you that I've no intention of dropping out. Now I don't care if you ride my case all the way through the end of the year. But believe it or not, what I'm concerned about is the fact that with all this attention you're heaping on me, the other cadets are starting to wonder why you've made such a special case out of me. They don't believe, and I share their views, that one little remark would merit such a vendetta." 

Quinn just sat in her chair. Her face betrayed no emotion, but Apollo learned long ago to look at the eyes; and her eyes told him that if he unzipped his skin to reveal two Hortas standing on top of each other she wouldn't have been more shocked. She displayed a characteristic typical of officers who were formulating a response; she got up and paced the room. Apollo knew this was common because he had been known to do it himself. 

_Long winded son of a bitch_, she thought, _and perceptive, too_. She stopped pacing and leaned forward, placing her hands on her desk. "Just so it's clear to you right now, I don't give a damn how the other cadets think I treat you. This Command course is serious business. The decision of life and death has been placed on the shoulders of officers who have been through this course, so you'd better believe that I make sure the people who graduate my class learn this real quick." She straightened, a small smile playing on her lips. "As for why I rode you, it wasn't because of that wisecrack you made. Hell, I forgot about that on the first day. Oh, no. It was because you were recommended by Admiral Komack." 

Apollo was perplexed. "What does that have to do with anything?" 

She started pacing again. "I've had cadets recommended by admirals, Komack especially. Believe me when I say that he doesn't have as keen a sense as you think on who will make a good cadet. Or they had relatives who happened to be high-ranking officers and officials. Because of that, those cadets thought that they could walk on water. I made them lose that illusion pretty damn quick. Every one of them either dropped out or got their act together." She stopped - again - and faced him. "But you... you're different. You're taking longer than I'd hoped to find out what you've hidden behind your personal shields. But believe me, those shields will come down, and then we'll get somewhere." 

Apollo never looked away from her the whole time she spoke. She felt as though someone was tracking her with a phaser, and they'd locked on target. It was silent for a while; then Apollo stood up. "Sir, I meant what I said. Whatever personal vendetta you have, they don't need to be distracted by scuttlebutt. Leaving me out of action isn't the answer. The others badly misread that action. If you talk to them, you'll know what I'm talking about. If I may..." he gestured toward the door. When she said nothing, he headed for it. Just before he walked completely out, he stopped, then looked back in. "And sir, I suggest that before you even bother trying to knock down those shields, you should first check to make sure those shields are even up to begin with." Satisfied at seeing the startled look on her face, he left. 

~ * ~ 

"I can't believe it! You just walked out on her?" Sam stopped eating and looked incredulously at Apollo from across the table. They had met at the restaurant where they had first met, and they were enjoying dinner while Apollo recounted his day's events to her. "Wow, I'll bet Quinn blew a gasket after you left." 

Apollo gazed thoughtfully at the sky. "Actually, from my last view of her, she just stood there, staring at me, looking for all the world as if her jaw was going to go slack, drop off, and hit the floor. I really don't think anyone's ever had the nerve to talk to her that way before." 

"Are you sure you won't get in trouble?" 

He registered the concern in her voice. "I'm not that worried about it. Besides, she did give me permission to speak freely. She's a good instructor, but she can be a bit of a bully sometimes." Again, he took up that thoughtful expression. "I wonder if she had a bad experience when she went through the Academy, one that made her act that way now." 

Sam smiled. "I don't know, but between you and me, I wish I was there to see it." 

"She probably would have yelled at you for... listening... in..." Apollo's voice trailed off, staring past Sam and a little above her, as if trying to spot something on the horizon. 

Sam was laughing, but it died when she saw the expression on his face. "Apollo? Apollo, what's wrong?" She was really worried. 

Apollo stood up with a start, knocking his chair over in the process. "I have to go!" He turned to go. 

Sam caught his arm. "Apollo, what is it?!" 

He turned to look at her; she did not like that look. "I Saw something. Skip's in trouble." 

"What do you mean you saw something? What did you..." The context of what he said finally grasped her. "What did you See? Where...?" 

"I have to go." He shook himself from her grasp, and turned to go. 

She didn't even see him start to run. Suddenly, he was gone. "_APOLLO!_" she yelled after him. 

~ * ~ 

Skip was with Karen in her dorm room, helping her with a science experiment. It was supposed to be harmless. Karen had constructed a small tractor beam so she could study its effects on certain test objects. Skip realized that he had done that project before. "Hey," he said, "here's something to do to really impress the instructor." He altered a circuit to perform a feedback loop, causing the flow of energy to add itself to the energy being generated, causing a buildup in power. "In my experiment, it boosted the power about 115 percent, and allowed for some really impressive results." He altered another circuit to perform a controlled bleedoff so as not to cause an overload. Then he reactivated the device. 

Apparently, the device's construction wasn't as sound as Skip's was. It worked fine for a minute, but then the emitter exploded, sending a feedback discharge into the power outlet. The resulting explosion knocked the two cadets backward; Karen hit her head on the edge of a table and was knocked out. Skip was thrown against the wall, where he saw the explosion rip a hole in the near wall, starting a plasma fire, which quickly spread through the room. With a normal fire, the fire suppression system would have no problem with taking care of the fire. However, this fire wouldn't go out normally; either the fire had to lose its plasma supply, or the oxygen had to be evacuated from the room. Currently, there was a slim-to-none chance of either happening. Skip just sat against the wall. _Oh, shit_, was all his mind would utter before he froze, staring entranced at the green flame as it worked its way toward them. 

~ * ~ 

Apollo turned to head toward the Academy. He broke into a run and simply took off. The next thing he new, he was skimming across San Francisco Bay, sending up a wall of water on either side of him. _What the..._ he thought. His concentration broken, he did the worst thing he could have done; he slowed down. Without the velocity backing him, he immediately started sinking into the bay. _SHIT_, he screamed mentally, and reversed his course. He tore through the water like a photon torpedo. When he hit the shore, he didn't slow down. His mind working quickly, he realized what he was doing and took complete control. What was a straight line of color grew curves and bends as he veered around people and objects. He couldn't figure out how he knew when to turn, but as long as it worked, he didn't try to analyze it at the time. 

In no time at all, he hit the Academy grounds and made a beeline for Skip's location. From the images in his mind, he gathered that to be Sam's room. The way into the building was too congested from the cadets evacuating, so Apollo made a lightning-quick decision. Using his momentum, he ran up the side of the building. When he reached the balcony to the correct room, he stopped and looked in. Skip was sitting against the wall, mesmerized by a plasma fire. Karen laid on the floor, apparently unconscious, blood trickling from a cut behind her ear. Apollo screamed Skip's name, but the sliding transparent aluminum door was meant to be soundproof. Unfortunately, the door also lacked controls to open it from the outside; it naturally wasn't meant to be an entrance point. In his rage, Apollo pounded on the door. An enormous dent appeared. Shocked, he kept beating on the door until it finally gave way and he tore it from its housings. 

Rushing in, he picked up Karen and slung her over one shoulder. He then grabbed Skip by the arm and helped him up; Skip graciously allowed himself to be led. He then headed out to the balcony. Looking back, Apollo noticed that the fire was getting worse; his grand entrance only introduced more oxygen to it, making it spread faster. He looked down, realizing for the first time that he just ran three stories up the wall. A crowd was gathering below. With no other way out, he told Skip, "Hang on, this is going to be rough!" He then yelled down to the crowd, "Clear out, _now!!_" and jumped. He timed it just right; an explosion ripped across the balcony where he had been standing. 

How he managed to stay on his feet, he was uncertain. The Starfleet Corp of Engineers showed up at the scene; part of their job was extinguishing fires when the automatic suppression systems either couldn't handle it or malfunctioned. Using electromagnetic pulses, they deactivated the plasma conduit that powered the room as well as that section of the building. Without fuel, the fire quickly went out. 

Sam came running up to him as medics relieved him of his two charges. "Apollo, what the hell happened? I lost sight of you at the restaurant; I swear I didn't even see you leave. Did you beam here somehow?" She looked up at the room, then after her two friends. "Are they all right?" she asked the medics. 

"The girl's got a bump on her head and a small cut, maybe a minor concussion. The guy's just dazed. They'll be all right." replied the medic. He and his partner hurried off with Skip and Karen. 

Sam looked back at her other main concern. "Apollo?" 

Apollo looked up at the room, then back the way he had come. He looked at Sam, then to no one in particular. "I think I need to sit down." he said distantly. 


	8. Origins Chapter Eight

_CHAPTER EIGHT_

Apollo, Sam, and Skip met in Admiral Komack's office later that evening. Apollo looked over at his friend. "Hey. Skip. Are you all right?" 

"Yeah. Sure. I was just a little shaken, that's all." Skip replied. Apollo didn't believe Skip's false bravado for a second, though. He had a pale, waxy complexion; he also looked as though he spent the last few hours drenched in sweat. 

Dr. Bennings walked into the room. "Ah. I see you're all here." Apollo and Sam looked at each other and couldn't help but smirk at the doctor's quirk. 

Skip looked at his friends. "What's so funny?" 

Apollo shook his head and waved. "Never mind. We'll tell you later. Doctor, what's the word?" 

Bennings just smiled. "Don't let him fool you. He's had quite a shock. It isn't every day you come face-to-face with a plasma fire, and come out in one piece. I've seen worse case victims of such a thing, and just their appearance scares me. I just don't understand how you could've gotten up there in time to save them." 

Apollo took the question quite literally. "I had to... uh... use an alternative route." Before Bennings could question him more, Apollo gave his attention to Sam. "What about you? You still doing okay?" 

Sam nodded, though a little shaky. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay. I'm just worried about Karen, that's all." 

"Karen is doing fine," Bennings said assuredly. "I just have her resting overnight; for observation purposes." 

Sam showed her approval with a slight smile as Admiral Komack walked in. He did not look amused. He slowly walked around the small group assembled in his office and quietly sat at his desk. He allowed the silence to carry on for a couple of moments before saying anything. "I believe you all know why you're here." He was speaking to everybody, but he was looking directly at Apollo. "I suppose you've also guessed that the little stunt performed earlier today gave the media a field day." 

"Well it's nice to know that some things haven't changed in 200 years," Apollo said. 

Komack ignored that comment, though it gave him somewhere to start venting his frustrations. 

"Racer, what in God's name did you do today!? We've gotten reports that sighted someone - and I'm assuming it was you - running across San Francisco Bay! This person sped his way through the city, practically flew through the Academy gates, and, before anyone even realized that something was wrong, broke into your girlfriend's dorm room by running up the side of the building and entering through the door of the balcony! When the crowd saw you, you had Taylor's roommate over your shoulder and your friend basically stuffed under your other arm. Then, to beat all, you jumped three stories to safety without so much as a scratch." Komack had to take a breath before continuing. "Do you think you could tell me just how the hell you did that? I don't suppose this has anything to do with those adjustments you made to yourself." 

Bennings was startled. "You made further adjustments to your limbs? By yourself?" 

Apollo shrugged. "I had to; something just didn't feel right, and I couldn't get rid of the feeling until I worked on my limbs. They seem all right now, though." 

"I'll say they are, if they allow you to do what you just did," Komack said, practically leaping out of his chair to stalk through the room. "The reports also mention that no one else knew about the fire. And you weren't even on the Academy grounds. How could you, of all people, know what went on. According to Cadet Goodman here," he indicated Skip, "it was a simple lab experiment that backfired." He glared at Skip. "I'll get into policies that concern performing experiments in dorm rooms later. Anyway, because it was an accident, it rules out the fact that you could have planned it. I can't see how it's possible to know what happened." 

Apollo knew Komack wanted him to tell him outright; he wouldn't give him the pleasure. Let him try and figure it out from the clues, Apollo figured. "Well... sir. You said that you've gone over my file before. Did you notice anything there that you might have missed?" 

"Not that I..." he trailed off, going over the file again in his mind. A fact in it stuck, and he pointed at the cadet. "Wait a minute. The file said that you have a higher than normal psi factor. But that couldn't possibly have..." 

"It has everything to do with it." He looked at Sam. 

She picked up the cue. "Doctor Bennings, do you remember when I was your patient, when I had that nasty fall?" The doctor nodded, and she glanced from him to the admiral, to Apollo, and back. "Well, Apollo knew what had happened shortly before it took place, and I think his psi factor was responsible." 

Komack narrowed his eyes at Apollo. "All right. Now's the time to come clean. I figured that you've been hiding something about yourself for some time. Would you mind telling me now just what was so damned secretive?" 

The cadet took a deep breath. _Boy, he never missed a beat all this time. Well, I guess now's a better time than any to tell him_. He opened up. "Well, sir, apparently, the same unexpected incident that helped me survive into your century also gave me a gift I call Foresight. At completely random times, my mind picks up a perfectly clear image of an incident that is about to happen. If I can do something about it, it allows me to prevent it or at least help as best I can." Surprise was clearly evident on the officer's face. "The reason I made an effort to keep this secret is because I didn't want scientists crawling all over me, taking tests and generally hampering with my training. I joined Starfleet because I wanted to give something of myself to this time period, to fit back in with society; not to be crowded by and hoarded over by a bunch of geeks in lab coats." Sam glared at him, taking offense because she was studying to become one of those geeks in lab coats. Apollo didn't register her, being too focused into plead his case. "I just hope that nothing has changed about that. I still want to serve in Starfleet, but I can't if I'm going to be kept under a microscope." 

Komack couldn't say a word. He simply walked back to his desk and slumped into the chair. "Well, I guess I just don't see any choice in the matter." He let those words hang in the air, allowing the people in front of him to think what they wanted. Sam's eyes widened with disbelief; her obvious thoughts were that the admiral couldn't keep this secret. Skip glared at him; he looked like he wanted to leap over the table and strangle Komack. Bennings looked as if he were happy; he was likely thinking he could get a paper or two out of this. Apollo was the hardest to read; it was as if he slipped a mask over his face; no emotion showed whatsoever. "I want you four to know right here, right now. None of this, absolutely _none_ of this, is to be mentioned outside of this room." The doctor looked crestfallen... no paper would come of this for him. "Racer, if you have any more of these feelings, you are to let either me or Dr. Bennings know about them, is that clear?" 

"Crystal, sir." Apollo replied sharply. 

"Good. Now I think we could all use some sleep, and I could use a stiff drink. Get out of my office." 

~ * ~ 

The group left Headquarters in silence. They headed back toward the infirmary, where Dr. Bennings broke the solitude. "You know, Apollo, I'd like to schedule a follow-up appointment with you, find out exactly what you did to yourself. It could be important." 

Apollo smirked. "Doctor, I'd be happy to show you, but you must trust me. Regarding the adjustments I made, an engineer would understand them more than you would." Bennings had no response to that. When they entered the infirmary, Bennings separated from the three cadets, heading toward his office, muttering personal mental notes to himself. 

They reached Karen's room; she was asleep. Skip walked over to her bedside and gently took her hand. As Sam and Apollo waited by the door, she leaned toward him and whispered, "You know, we all seem to be getting very familiar with the infirmary during our term here. All that's left is to have something happen to Skip." 

"Shh," Apollo said in her ear, "you know what they say. Careful what you ask for; you may get it." 

"Mmm. Does that go for everything?" She smiled warmly. 

"Maybe." Apollo read her obviously subtle sign by sending a playful puff of air into her ear. 

Across the room, Skip got up and headed toward them. "Let's go," he said. 

"How is she?" Apollo asked, easily switching his attention from Sam to his friend. 

"Well, if you two weren't whispering sweet nothings into each other's ears," Sam blushed, while the corners of Apollo's mouth simply turned up a little bit, "you'd have noticed that she woke up. It was only for a few minutes, but she says she's okay, and she can't wait until she gets out of here. Frankly, I agree. I've already seen far too much of the inside of this place." The other two smiled knowingly at each other. "What?" Skip asked, feeling like he'd been left out of a joke; or worse, been the butt of one. "What!?" It was hard for him to show his desperation in a hoarse half-whisper. 

"Nothing, my friend." Apollo replied. "We simply share your sentiment. Come on." They walked out of the infirmary. "I'm going to walk Sam home. Are you going to be all right, Skip?" he said, once they were outside. 

"Yeah, yeah. Go on, you two lovebirds. I'll see you tomorrow." Skip turned and walked away. 

Apollo started to head towards Sam's dorm, but she didn't move. "What's wrong, Sam?" he inquired. 

Sam crossed her arms and hugged herself, as though she felt cold. "I don't know. I just don't feel like going back there, not tonight. Besides, you're forgetting something. Thanks to the fire, there's probably not much left of my room." 

Apollo grunted in agreement. "You're right. I forgot. Well, is there any other friends you could stay with?" 

"Maybe, but they probably have roommates too; you know as well as I do that those rooms are barely big enough for two people, let alone three." 

"It would just be for one night. They'd assign you and Karen a new room in the morning." Apollo looked at her for a moment. "There's something else, isn't there." 

Sam was silent at first, then she reluctantly nodded. "I can't get over the feeling that something's trying to split us up somehow. I mean, first there was my fall, then your crash, now this. All the accidents were serious, yet we've all survived them." 

Apollo gazed at the stars, adding it all up. "I think you're looking at things from the wrong perspective. I don't think these incidents were meant to split us up; rather, they were meant to bring us together." Sam was puzzled, and she showed it, so he continued. "If not for your fall, I would never have met you. If not for my crash, we may not have discovered how deeply we feel for each other. The same would apply between Skip and Karen now. The fact that Skip hasn't been injured yet makes us hope that the pattern ends here; that he's the lucky one in our group to escape tragedy. I know I certainly wouldn't want to lose him as a friend, and I'm sure you feel the same way. I do know one thing. For all the unfortunate circumstances that we've had to endure, in a way I'm glad we've experienced them, because it's brought us closer together." 

Sam was so deeply moved that Apollo could see a tear glisten in the corner of her eye. Through her emotion, she managed to speak, "You know..." she began, her voice catching in her throat, "you are the most long-winded son of a bitch I know." With that, she wrapped her arms around him and held him close. 

Apollo was shocked at first - he never expected that answer - but he recovered quickly. "Okay, your dorm is out. What shall we do?" he said, pulling away. "I, for one, am not tired. This day still has me going." 

"I'm not sleepy either." She shrugged. 

Apollo raised his eyebrow and smiled. "Well, madam, the moon is exceptionally bright tonight. What do you say we go for a little stroll?" He spoke in a British accent, and offered her his arm. 

"Why, I'd be delighted." Accepting the arm, she snuggled close as they strolled through the grounds under the moonlight. 

~ * ~ 

He was sitting in dim light. The floor was violently rocking under him, but he kept his seat. He was shouting something, but he there was no sound. Ahead of him, a huge bird approached; it looked like a phoenix, and it was spitting fire at him. He had this unspeakable urge to kill it, but he didn't know why; all his life, he'd learned to respect animals in all their forms. He jumped out of his chair and pointed at the bird, yelling silently at it. The floor rocked again, and he fell. Darkness engulfed him. 

~ * ~ 

Apollo woke up with a start. He was drenched in sweat and his breathing was rapid. He looked at his surroundings: he was in a strange room; he was naked in bed, and Sam was laying next to him in the same state of undress; a rather rumpled coverlet lay draped over them, conforming closely to the contours of their bodies. Suddenly it all came back to him. He and Sam had walked until the moon had set. They went off-campus to a hotel Sam told him about. She said it was a good place - her parents had once stayed there when they were visiting - so they rented a room. They made love that night. At first Sam was concerned about Apollo's artificial limbs, but he assured her with a little persuasion that he could be as gentle as the wind. Once that was established, they made love again, more wild and passionate than the first time. They had fallen asleep in each other's arms. 

Sam stirred at Apollo's abrupt rise into a sitting position. "What is it?" She said this while half-asleep, her face muffling her voice in the pillow. When she received no answer, she turned and sat up. "What's wrong?" She repeated. 

He looked into her eyes, seeing the concern nestled there. "It... it's nothing. I... just had a bad dream." 

"Oh, is that all?" she said, grabbing him around the neck and wrestling him back down. She cuddled close to him and stroked his hair. "I don't suppose you'd care to tell me about it." 

He thought for a moment, staring at the ceiling. "Sure, as soon as I figure out what it was, what it meant." Having calmed down, he suddenly felt very tired. "Right now, all I need is a little rest." 

"I second the motion," she whispered into his ear. She instantly returned to sleep. Apollo stayed awake for a little longer. He felt it comforting to feel her curled up against him, one leg draped over him, feeling her breath on the side of his neck. Focusing on those feelings, Apollo grew very relaxed, and allowed sleep to regain him. 


	9. Origins Chapter Nine

_CHAPTER NINE_

_Captain's Log, Stardate 1468.5:_

_The _USS Endeavor_ has been assigned to patrol along the Romulan Neutral Zone. For the moment, all is quiet, but where Romulans are concerned..._

The ship's commander trailed off, for dramatic pause before concluding his log. "One can never expect it to remain quiet for long." 

Apollo punched off the log recorder. "Status report," he stated. 

The helmsman glanced up from her console. "Maintaining course and speed, sir." 

"No sign of any ships or objects within our course, captain," came the reply from the navigator's station, to the right of the helm. 

Behind him, Apollo could hear the science officer and the communications officer give their respective reports. "Nothing from the Romulan side, sir." 

"All's quiet on subspace channels, sir," said the communications officer. 

Apollo rested his chin in his hand and brooded. "That's the problem. It's too damn quiet." 

The science officer spoke up. "Why expect trouble? Just be glad we have this little rest." 

The captain spun in his chair and grinned at the officer. "Count my blessings, eh, Skip?" 

"Well, like I've always heard, if it ain't broke, don't fix it." 

Apollo chuckled. "I hear you, mister. Engineering, how are things down there?" 

"_Couldn't be better, sir_," answered a voice with a thick Middle Eastern accent. "_The engines are purring like kittens_." 

"I'm glad to hear it, Mr. Bendavi. Keep up the good work." Apollo leaned back in his chair as he cut the intercom. Things were just too boring for his liking. But then, Starfleet life was not all action. 

"Captain! I'm picking up a subspace signal. It's on a distress frequency!" the comm officer said, excited. 

_Perhaps I thought too soon._ Apollo practically jumped from his chair. "Let's hear it, Mr. Jacobs." 

Noise flooded the bridge, but slowly a message could be made out among the noise as Jacobs filtered it out. _"...point five... Tar... need... please..."_

"Jacobs, get a fix on that, now." Apollo was impatient. He wanted to hear what they were saying. 

"Trying, sir." He made a few more adjustments. "Here it comes again." 

The message was definitely clearer. _"...need help please. We repeat, this is the transport freighter _Kobayashi Maru_. We have been rendered inoperative by a subspace anomaly. Our engines are dead and our life support is out. We urgently need help please."_ The message repeated itself again. 

"Hail the ship, Jacobs. Skip, I want information on them." Apollo was excited that they were finally getting some action. 

As Skip turned to the science station, Jacobs got Apollo's attention. "I have them now. Putting you through." 

"_Kobayashi Maru_, this is the _USS Endeavor_. We have picked up your distress signal. Give us your coordinates and we'll assist you." Apollo determined to put as much confidence in his voice as possible to assure the ship that they were heard. 

"_Thank goodness, a Federation starship. We feared the worst. We're in the Tarod star system. I don't think we can hold out much longer_." 

"Stand by, _Maru_, we'll get to you as fast as we can." Apollo said. 

Jacobs looked up at his commander. "Sir, I'm losing the signal." His hands fluttered over his board. "No good, sir. I've lost them." 

The navigator spoke up. "Sir, I have the coordinates. They place them dangerously close to the Romulan Neutral Zone." 

Skip turned to face his friend. "Captain, the _Maru_ is a medium range transport ship. At last reports, it carried a crew of 209 and a cargo of hytritium. If anyone even blinked wrong..." 

"It'll blow the ship to kingdom come," Apollo finished for him. "And if their engines are dead, they could have drifted into the Neutral Zone already. Mr. Phillips, set an intercept course, best possible speed. I want to be there yesterday!" 

"Yes, sir. Engaging warp drive." 

Apollo could feel the _Endeavor_ spin around on an axis. He next felt the thrumming of her mighty engines as the screen showed her bursting into warp speed. Pumped up with adrenaline, Apollo started pacing around the bridge. "We've reached warp 8, captain," said Phillips. 

Skip spoke from his station, his face glowing blue as he looked into his viewer. "At that speed, we should get there in about fifteen minutes." 

Apollo nodded. "But is it enough. Will we get there in time." The fact that he stated the questions more than asked them led the crew to believe that they were rhetorical statements. They remained silent. 

A quarter of an hour later, Phillips spoke up. "Sir, entering the Tarod system. The furthest planet out is just within Federation space." 

"Understood. Slow to impulse speed. Skip, keep an eye out for the _Maru_, along with other surprises," Apollo said through clenched teeth. 

"Aye, sir." Skip scanned the area. His brow wrinkled. "This is weird. There's no sign of the Maru." 

Apollo was just as puzzled. "Any sign of debris? Could she have exploded?" 

"Hang on." Skip looked again, then shook his head. "No sir, no sign of anything." 

Apollo returned to his seat. "That's odd." Suddenly, he straightened up in his chair, his spine tingling. 

Skip looked concerned. "Sir, are you all right?" 

"Quiet!" Apollo snapped, waving him off. He simply stared at the screen. "Focus in on the planet." 

Phillips looked at her commanding officer, then to Skip, then to the navigator. She shrugged and concentrated on the planet. "Aye, sir. Increasing magnification." Soon, the planet filled the screen. 

All Apollo did was concentrate on the screen. Skip was about to ask him what he was doing when he pointed to the planet. "There! See that?" 

Skip shook his head. "I don't know what you're..." 

"There! In the lower right hemisphere of the planet." Skip squinted until he saw what Apollo saw. There was an odd distortion on the planet's face; a distortion that was growing in size. Apollo jumped up. "Red alert! Shields up! All hands to battle stations!" he forced out of his mouth. The klaxon sounded immediately, and the bridge was bathed in red light. "Open a hailing frequency." 

Jacobs hesitated for a second, until Apollo glared at him. "Aye, sir," he said, shivering, "hailing frequencies opened." 

Apollo turned his glare to the screen. "This is Captain Racer of the Federation starship _Endeavor_, calling the Romulan ship ahead of us." At hearing those words, all heads turned toward their captain in surprise. "We are here on a rescue mission. Number one, I want to know what happened to the ship that sent the distress signal, and number two, I want to know why you've crossed over into Federation space." While he waited, he turned to Phillips, "Lock phasers on target. If their response is anything but friendly, open fire." 

Phillips' eyes widened slightly, but her voice was firm. "Aye, sir," she said, inputting the appropriate commands. 

Skip spoke out. "Sir! Energy surge coming from the ship! Romulan bird-of-prey decloaking; weapons coming on line, shields going up!" 

"Let 'em have it." _Here we go_, Apollo thought, not too disappointed. 

Twin blue beams streaked out in front of them to strike dead center of the ship just becoming visible. They leaned hard to one side as damage was clearly being made. "Direct hit, sir," Skip declared. "Heavy damage. We got them before their shields were completely up." He looked wonderingly at Apollo. "How did you know?" he said quietly. At a beep from his console he brought his attention back to it. "Two more ships decloaking! Klingon-made D-7 battlecruisers! They're firing!" 

The ship rocked under the concentrated blast from two separate hits. "Shields to ninety-two percent and dropping fast under heavy fire!" cried Phillips. 

"Evasive action Delta 5. Attack plan Zeta 2-22. Follow that with Attack Plan Alpha Romeo 6." Apollo calmly said. "Send word to Starfleet about our situation." 

After a moment, Jacobs replied, "Sir, they're jamming us on all signals." 

The ship lurched as defensive measures were brought into play. They would loop around, fire, then loop in a different direction, spinning around on all axes. As much of a swath as they were cutting through space, the Romulans managed to stay with them. Suddenly, there was a loud explosion behind Apollo. Jacobs was flung over the command chair, coming to rest between Apollo and the helm. Apollo looked back at the smoking ruin of the communications station, then to the downed officer. "That did it," he raged. "Phillips, hard about! Ram a couple of photon torpedoes down his throat and we'll see if he likes them!" 

His response was plain as the view whirled around again. The Romulan bird-of-prey loomed on the screen. A plasma beam burst forth from it, heading toward the ship. At the same instant, Phillips launched two torpedoes at their enemy. The two energy projectiles passed each other, heading toward their respective targets. Once again, the bridge rocked from the hit. But Apollo was satisfied as the pounding was too much for the Romulan's shields. It erupted in a ball of flame, blacking out the screen. "We're blind!" shouted Phillips as they lost their view. The ship rocked again. "Shields down to twenty percent. We can't take much more." 

The intercom squawked. "Captain, environmental systems are out." Bendavi's voice said, anguish clear in his tone. "Warp drive has been damaged." 

Apollo got another tingle down his spine. "Phillips, 180 degree turn, fire everything!" 

Phillips shouted, "But we can't see where we're going!" 

Apollo jumped up. "Just do as I say, Lieutenant!!" 

She immediately whipped around to comply. Her hesitancy was enough for the ship to get blasted again. Another explosion erupted on the bridge. Phillips was flung out of her chair to land next to Jacobs. 

"Dammit!" Apollo said. He jumped over the two bodies and completed the maneuver. Compensating for the loss of time, he shot where he felt the ship would be, hearing acknowledgments that both phasers and photons were fired. 

Silence, aside from the fires on the bridge, cut through the air. Apollo managed to coax the ship to stop its wild careening. "Skip?" he simply said. He looked up to see his friend struggle to his feet, injured in the last hit. He looked into his scanner. His head whipped around to look at Apollo, his face clearly showing shock. He looked back into the scanner. "I can't believe it," he whispered. 

"What was that, Skip?" Apollo said. 

"Sir, the Romulan ship was destroyed. The only remaining one was the one that we first damaged. It's trying to limp away." 

"Not for long." Apollo said. Glancing at the instruments, he swung the ship toward an intercept course. "I'm going to find out why those bastards wanted to..." 

"Captain!" Skip interrupted. "Receiving an energy surge from the other..." 

He never finished his sentence. More eruptions swept across the bridge as it lurched out from under him, sending Skip sailing across the room. He landed against the wall near the viewscreen. Apollo was launched from his chair, winding up on the floor on top of the navigator. 

He opened his eyes. All was quiet. He tried to get up, but he was too dazed to move. "Ugh." he grunted. "Skip, are you okay?" 

He heard a dull moan in response. "Oooh. Stop the ship; I wanna get off. Oh, this is worse than any hangover I've ever had." Skip managed to get to his feet, holding his head. The bridge was tilted at an outrageous angle. "Hang on, sir. I'll try to see what happened. He staggered up the floor to his station and hung onto his viewer as he tried to look into it. "It's no use. I'm not getting anything. The controls are dead." 

"Couldn't you have phrased that better?" 

Suddenly, Apollo heard a voice from outside the bridge. "What the hell happened in there?! Open the damn thing up!" He winced as bright light poured into his eyes. The viewscreen split down the middle and parted. A man was silhouetted in the light. People were running like mad behind him. "What the hell!?" They looked around incredulously. "What in God's name happened in here? Can we get some lights in here, for Christ's sake?" 

The bright light disappeared, or rather, it seemed dimmed as normal lighting came up on the "bridge". The floor slowly returned to its level status, and ventilators began clearing the smoke from the room. Apollo heard a muffled moan. "Geh uva meh." 

"Huh?" was all he could say. 

He heard cursing next. Someone shook his leg off their head. It was Phillips. Now that her head was free, she hollered, "Get offa me!" 

"Oh. Sorry." He immediately got to his feet, then found the mistake in doing that as his head swam. 

"Damn, Racer," she said, glaring at him as she got off the floor. "Do you work out or something? You feel like you almost weigh a ton!" He grinned sheepishly as the officer - a real officer... she was assigned to a ship currently orbiting Earth, and she had volunteered to take part in the simulation - walked out of the room. 

Allowing his vision to return to normal, he saw the rest of his "crew" getting up off the floor. Skip was leaning against his station, still holding his head. Apollo staggered over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "You okay, buddy?" 

Skip nodded. He removed his hand, and noticed a slight trace of blood on it. "I think so. Must've rapped that bulkhead a little too hard." 

Apollo grinned. "Bull. You couldn't rap anything hard enough to hurt that thick skull of yours. I'll bet the bulkhead hurts worse than you." 

"Hah. Hah. Very funny, Captain sir." Skip said, oozing with sarcasm. Then Apollo saw him snap up straight, at least as much as he could. Apollo looked in that direction and understood why, snapping to attention himself as Admiral Komack walked into the room. 

The admiral looked around at the smoky haze that the vents still hadn't cleared. "Unbelievable," he muttered. He dismissed everyone but Apollo, making a special note to Skip to get his head looked at. When they left the room, he came up to the cadet. "Well, you got yourself into a fine fix, didn't you." 

Apollo shrugged, then remembered that he was supposed to be at attention. "Permission to speak freely, sir." 

"Certainly." 

Apollo looked straight at him. "It was a trap, plain and simple. I allowed myself to be led into a trap." 

"Ah, but you didn't know that at the time you got the distress call, did you?" 

"No, sir, although I must admit that by putting the ship near the Neutral Zone, it kind of made sense that we would have met some type of opposition." 

Komack walked in a circle around the cadet. "Which brings me to something I found peculiarly puzzling. You went in there to perform a rescue, but if you ask me, you also half-expected to run into trouble." He got right up into Apollo's face. "How in blazes did you know you were going to be attacked!? This simulation is kept Top Secret! Only myself and the engineers running it know what's going to happen, as well as the veteran officers who assisted you in filling some stations! Did somebody tell you what this exercise was? Were you informed in any way how this simulation was to play out?" 

"No, sir!" Apollo snapped back, feeling offended that there would even be an implication of unfairness. "I had absolutely no knowledge of what this was supposed to be. My only thought was that it was just another training exercise. I still don't have a complete idea as to what this was, other than a complete fiasco. Sir." 

Komack left Apollo's face and paced around the wrecked bridge. Apollo thought he had heard the admiral grunt, but it was followed by a few more. He then realized that Komack was laughing, most likely at him. "Sir, permission to request what the admiral thinks is so funny about my performance." 

At that outburst, Komack turned to him. He was smiling. "You honestly don't know what this test was about, do you?" He shook his head and chuckled some more. "Well, cadet, guess what. Due to your performance... on this bridge today... you probably won't ever completely know." He could sense that Apollo wanted to answer that. "At ease. Speak your mind. You probably would anyway." 

Apollo relaxed and turned to him. "What do you mean, I'll never know? Was this supposed to show me how to die?" 

"You're close, but no cigar. You see, Cadet Racer, the _Kobayashi Maru_ is a test of character, designed to rate a command cadet on his response to a no-win scenario." Seeing the cadet's confusion, he began pacing. "At any time in a Starfleet officer's life, there may come a time when there's absolutely no chance of a victory, no chance of a rescue, no chance of coming out of the situation alive. This test was designed to see not how you commanded, but how you would best deal with the fact that there's no way out." 

"So... may I ask how I rated?" 

Komack laughed again. "I can't tell you that, Racer! Look around you, for God's sake. Technicians are running themselves ragged trying to find out what's going on. Don't you get it yet? The computer for this simulation wasn't programmed to rate whether you failed or succeeded, but how well or how badly you failed. You gave it a parameter that went beyond its programming, and it blew itself apart trying to compute it." He paused long enough for what he said to start sinking into Apollo's brain. 

Apollo was confused. "But... the ship was destroyed; we all died." 

Komack stormed down to face Apollo again. "Wrong! You pretty much trashed the simulator, but not the ship! You didn't die! You made it through the battle. Yes, you lost a lot of lives, but that could happen in combat. The point was this: _none_ of you were supposed to survive. Your ship was supposed to be obliterated. Hell, we sent just about the deadliest Romulan weaponry we know of after you. Yet, somehow, and God knows I'll find out, you did. You beat the no-win scenario. And Jim Kirk is going to be pissed." 

Apollo recalled that name; he was one of Starfleet's finest starship captains. "Sir, I fail to understand...?" 

"Oh, don't pull that Vulcan crap with me. Jim Kirk was the only other person to beat the scenario. Only he cheated. He had to re-program the damn thing so he could rescue the ship." 

Apollo thought for a moment. "But there was no ship. It was a trap." 

Komack shook his head. "Every test is different. Sometimes there isn't even a ship to rescue. Sometimes you're not even on the ship. You could be on a doomed landing party. It doesn't matter what mission you're on." He was getting frustrated. "I shouldn't even be telling you all this. In fact, what I've been telling you doesn't leave this room. Understand?" 

"Yes, sir." Apollo replied. 

Komack grunted and turned to leave the simulator. He was almost out when he was stopped by a thought. He headed back towards Apollo and tapped the cadet on his temple. "You knew this way, didn't you?" 

"Huh?" 

"You saw in your head what was going to happen, didn't you? Just like when your friend was caught in that fire? Which means you _did_ have foreknowledge of what was going to happen." 

"No, sir. I may have used my heightened instincts to guide me when we could no longer use the viewscreen or sensors, but I never..." Apollo stopped himself. "Now that you mention it, I did have this weird dream last week. But I didn't understand the connection until now. There was a bird in space that I killed in my dream. And I was on a ship at the time. But I didn't have any images here. I just did what I felt was right." 

"That bird must have stood for Romulans." He paused, thinking it over, and snorted. "Well, that rules out cheating." 

Apollo was confused again. "Sir, I fail to see why my precognitive dream does not count as..." 

"Besides testing your character, we also test to see how well you use whatever skills and equipment you have on hand." Komack interrupted. "Your... 'skill' simply allowed you to react better. And the way you took over the helm..." 

"Sir..." Apollo said, interrupting right back. "I had no choice there. Phillips was down, I had no time to assign someone else... and I was closer anyway." 

"Relax. Stop trying to disqualify yourself, damn it. I'm not criticizing your actions. I've always felt that a good captain has to know every function that takes place aboard his ship. You certainly proved that." Komack turned to leave the room. "Know this, Racer," he said, not turning around. "Keep this up, and you'll have a fine career ahead of you. And may God have mercy on your soul." He disappeared around a corner. 

Apollo stood alone on the empty "bridge". "Thank you, sir." he said quietly, stunned as much by Komack's appraisal as by the fact he found himself smiling. 

_CHAPTER TEN_

Champagne glasses clinked together at the table occupied by Apollo, Sam, Skip, and Karen. The day was indeed a day for celebration. Skip stood up. "A toast." He extended his glass, and the others stood and joined suit. "Here's to the Class of 2266..." 

"'67." Apollo corrected, using his Vulcan tone of voice and displaying absolutely no emotion. The women chuckled. 

"'67," Skip reiterated, directing a mock glare toward his friend, "and all I have to say is this: watch out Starfleet! There are four brand new officers entering the fold, eager for adventure and full of life." 

"Actually, 273 cadets will graduate this year, not just the four of us." Apollo said, matter-of factly again. He wound up getting Skip's drink dumped on him. They all started laughing. 

Sam raised her glass. "And here's to Skip, who, among the four of us, managed to make it through the Academy without having to spend any amount of quality time in the infirmary." This constituted another round of laughter. 

The party lasted well into the night. The foursome laughed and cheered and regaled old stories, the most interesting of which was Apollo's recital of some of his experiences in the 21st century. The way he had told it, it seemed as though he had just done those things yesterday. Finally, the time came when they closed the place down. Walking out, or rather, leaving at a slight stagger, they all gave each other a group hug. Skip was obviously trying to say something. "Well, for God's sake, man, spit it out!" Apollo prompted. 

"Me an' Karen are goin' t' go see their new room..." Skip blurted. 

Karen elbowed him. "We've had that room fer weeks, you big ninny." 

"Oh, yeah. Well, we're goin' there, an' I jus' wan'ed t' warn you so you wouldn't come in an' disturb us." Skip tried to wink, but his eye stayed closed. Karen giggled. 

Apollo didn't mention to Skip that as of a week ago, Skip's room and Karen's were the same, since Skip and Sam switched places; they had been practically living that way since mid-year anyway. The arrangement was infinitely more agreeable than the previous one, if for no other reason than to get rid of an extra bed to provide more space. "That's all right. I'm not ready to call it a night yet. Are you, Sam?" 

Sam's eyelids fluttered; whether she was flirting with Apollo or just plain tipsy, he couldn't tell. "I don't know. I'm feeling kind of tired myself." She could tell that he was going to take her seriously, so she subtly pinched him. Karen noticed, and giggled again. 

"Oh." Apollo got the message. "Yes, well, now that you mention it, I probably do need some sleep. I'll see you both at the commencement ceremony tomorrow." He waved as they left. 

Sam then grabbed him by the arm and pulled him close to her. "Apollo, you need to help me back because I think I drank just a little too much and I can't see straight," she said in a half-whisper. 

"I think we all had a little too much tonight. But I believe we earned it. C'mon, I'll take you home." He moved to take her arm. 

Sam had other plans. She spun behind him and jumped onto his back. "Thank you," she whispered into his ear, breathing a little heavier than necessary for her answer. 

It had the desired effect. He carried her all the way back to the dorm. He let her down inside of his room, whereupon she pounced on him, knocking him onto the bed. Before he could do anything, her lips were locked on his. This would have continued if he had not seen the message light blinking on his terminal. "Hold on a second." He managed, with some effort, to disengage himself from her and approach the screen. Activating the message, he read the text, puzzled. "It says I'm to come to the commencement ceremony in my dress uniform. I thought we all had to do that." 

"Maybe we do, and that message is just to the graduating cadets," Sam said. 

"Maybe." Apollo shrugged. He turned around; Sam was facing him. _Whew_, he thought, _I didn't realize these uniforms were so easy to remove_. Sam had a sly smile on her face, as she showed him with his uniform how she performed her little trick. Apollo wasn't thinking too much after that. 

~ * ~ 

He tugged on the collar the gold tunic of his dress uniform. The metallic gold braid encircling the collar and running down the middle of his front seemed stiff and unyielding. "Damn things must be made out of steel wool. I've never worn anything more uncomfortable." 

Skip shook his head. He was leaning against a wall, also wearing his dress uniform, but his tunic was red. He and Sam had switched rooms that morning for the express purpose of changing into their dress attire. "What a complainer. You don't have to wear it much. They just want you to make sure that the experience is a memorable one." 

Apollo chuckled. "I'll remember, all right... I'll have a rash around my neck for a week." 

"Lighten up. Today's the big day. We don't want to set a bad example." 

Apollo was about to shoot off a retort when there was a knock at the door. It opened; Sam and Karen walked in, both in blue; Karen wore the dress, but Sam preferred the tunic and pants. "Hi. Thought you gentlemen would like an escort to the graduation." Sam said cheerfully. 

Karen chimed in. "She wanted to just walk in, but I told her it would be polite if she knocked. Besides, we didn't want to catch you indecent." 

"Now, Karen, when are they anything else." The two girls chuckled at the men's expense. Skip just smiled, but Sam could swear she could see Apollo turning a light shade of pink. 

"Well, now that the two of you are here, shall we go?" Apollo headed out of the room. 

Sam and Karen looked at Skip. He simply shrugged. "He's nervous. What can I say, I'm a bit giddy myself." He ushered them out in front of him and shut the door behind him. 

~ * ~ 

The ceremony went off without a hitch. Nova Squadron made a brilliant display for everyone. When they finished, the pilots joined their fellow cadets to participate in the main event. Names were called, and cadets went to the front to receive their commission as Starfleet officers. When the last name was called, a thunderous applause swept through the grounds. The Commandant of the Academy took the stage. As he approached the podium, the crowd hushed. 

"To the Class of 2267, I bid you congratulations. You have truly earned your right to wear the uniform of Starfleet. I hope that you all have long and prosperous careers. I can remember the day when I sat in your place, listening to my commandant give a speech to us. It was an exciting experience..." 

Apollo's mind drifted off. He thought about where this step was going to take him. Once again, he was going to be an officer in an elite organization of peacekeeping individuals. He couldn't have wanted more from his life. When he was a boy, he would sit out in the open field by his house, gaze at the stars, and wonder what type of life was waiting for him to discover it. Now he can actually find out. 

He was interrupted from his daydreaming; Sam was elbowing him sharply in the ribs. "Apollo, snap out of it," she hissed at him. 

"What... is he done, yet?" He was a little disoriented. 

"Yes, but when the commandant went to his seat, Komack took the stage." 

Instantly interested, Apollo focused his attention in front of him. He had seen the commencement ceremonies of the cadets who graduated before him while he was there; Komack had never appeared for them. "Cadets," Komack began, "it is common for you to join this Academy, expecting to leave your mark on the history books. While you have all done very well, there is one cadet among you who has far excelled in his duties to this Academy. This cadet's unwavering confidence and determination have not gone unnoticed in these halls. While I would enjoy introducing this cadet, I am obliged to delegate this task to a visiting officer who is truly appropriate for the deed. This officer is a shining example to Starfleet, and we are proud to have him represent us when he performs his duties throughout the Federation. The officer of whom I am speaking is none other than Captain James T. Kirk." 

A man stood up from among the instructors and approached the podium. Apollo could hear dozens of gasps escape the lips of his fellow cadets; indeed, he wasn't immune to the effect this man had on everyone there. The class gave Kirk a standing ovation. 

Kirk waved to the crowd and allowed them to settle back into their seats. "Greetings," he began. "In the history of the Academy, I have been known for setting a lot of precedents, some of which are not appropriate to mention while in public." Laughter broke out in the crowd. "During my senior year at the Academy, I took a test that all Command candidate cadets have to take if they ever want to sit in the captain's chair of a starship. My score was... unique; so much so that the Academy awarded me a commendation for original thinking. It has come to my attention that someone has finally topped me in that regard, and I would feel privileged to meet this talented cadet. Would Apollo Racer please join me up here." 

More gasps moved through the crowd. Apollo looked at Sam, who merely gave him a look that said, "Go on." He could feel all eyes searching for him, resting on his position when he stood up to approach the stage. Those eyes followed him all the way, and it took every Vulcan discipline he knew to keep from jumping out of his skin. Once he reached the podium, he did the only thing he could think of when approaching a superior officer; he snapped to attention. "Cadet Racer reporting as ordered, sir." 

"At ease, cadet." Kirk said. "So, I understand that you were able to pass this test without any, ah, outside help." 

"That is correct, sir." Apollo replied. 

Kirk's curiosity was evident on his face. "I was wondering. I took the test three times before I found the solution. How long did it take you?" 

Apollo felt a slight tint in his face. "Well, sir, it... was my first time." 

Kirk looked mildly surprised. He looked over to where the faculty was sitting. Komack slowly nodded once in confirmation. "Your first time." His mind was still mulling that over. "So... do you think you could give me a little tip?" The crowd chuckled nervously; they knew he was asking in jest. 

Apollo shrugged. "I guess you just go with your gut feeling, sir." 

More laughter. As if Kirk commanded any other way. "Actually, there was another reason why we're up here right now. From your records, it appears that this isn't your first experience in an organization such as Starfleet." 

Apollo visibly relaxed, able to talk about an unrelated subject. "Yes, sir. I was a captain in the United Earth Forces of the mid-21st century." 

"Yes, well, Starfleet can't give you your actual rank back; not yet, at least. It can certainly give you a good push in the right direction, though. Cadet Apollo Racer, by the authority given to me by Starfleet Command, you are hereby given the rank of full Lieutenant, with all of the rights, privileges, and responsibilities that goes with it; this will be effective immediately following this commencement ceremony. Let me be the first to congratulate you on a job well done." Kirk offered his hand. As Apollo shook it, he heard Skip in the crowd, cheering. The cheer had no sooner left his lips than the entire class joined in with a thunderous roar of approval. 

Apollo, his mind threatening to overload with so much positive stimulation, simply smiled. "Thank you, sir. Thank you very much." As he faced the horde of cheering cadets, he found himself fortunate that they didn't insist that he say something on his behalf; he was too excited to think of anything to say anyway. 

~ * ~ 

At the reception, Apollo's friends had gathered around him to congratulate him. "Well, well, _Lieutenant_ Racer," Skip said with mock envy, "how does it feel to be such a big shot on campus?" 

"It feels..." Apollo paused to think about it, "rather nice, actually." Skip punched him on the arm. "Careful, now. Don't go assaulting a superior officer. I might have to drag your ass to the brig." The sarcasm couldn't possibly be missed in his voice. 

Sam gave him a huge hug and a kiss. "I am so proud of you. You really did deserve that jump in rank. You were such a big help to me." 

"Are you sure that's an objective opinion?" Apollo teased, his eyebrow arching very Vulcanly. 

"Well, maybe a trifle subjective." she responded, holding her thumb and forefinger about a centimeter apart and giving him a wink. 

"Actually, he was a big help, to you and the other cadets." The voice came from outside their little group. When they turned, Captain Quinn and Captain Kirk were striding toward them. Apollo could feel his face start to flush again. When the two captains reached the group, Quinn continued. "I spoke with your other instructors, and some of the other cadets. I've heard how you gave your time and effort helping the other cadets with their studies. A very commendable trait. I'll have to admit, Apollo, I was wrong about you at first. But someone told me that if I were to go and try to tear through a person's shields, I should first look to see if those shields were up to begin with." Apollo could tell that she was slightly uncomfortable with this confession, but knowing she was giving it upped his respect for her astronomically. "I took another look at you. You never had them up. I guess I was so busy trying to look around the image, that I never realized I was looking at the actual product." Realizing she had nothing more to say, she offered her hand. "Congratulations, Lieutenant Racer. I hope to see you again someday." 

"Thank you, sir," he said, shaking her hand, "I would be honored." When they noticed that she had left, but Captain Kirk remained, Sam nudged Skip away with her, convincing him that they could both stand to refill their glasses. 

Kirk and Apollo strolled in the opposite direction. "That was very profound. You really told her that?" At Apollo's nod, he shook his head. "That sounds like something my first officer, Spock, would say." 

Apollo simply shrugged. "I needed her to understand my position at the time without resenting me for bringing it to her attention, sir. The truth was the logical choice." 

Kirk gestured with his hand. "Enough with the 'sir'. We're at a party." He paused. "You sound like you spent some time on Vulcan yourself." 

"Four years." Apollo thought for a moment. "If I may add, I believe we had a mutual acquaintance." 

"Oh, really." Kirk could hardly believe what he was hearing. 

"Yes. Your first officer's father was my instructor on Vulcan." 

Kirk's eyes grew wide. "You studied under Sarek? Small galaxy." Something beeped. "Excuse me." He turned away from Apollo and brought out a communicator. Due to the noise in the room, Apollo couldn't clearly hear what was being said. Then Kirk closed his communicator and turned back to him. "I have to go. Good luck with your career, Lieutenant." He shook Apollo's hand again. 

"Will do, sir. Thank you." Apollo watched Kirk stride toward the exit. He felt an immense swelling of pride engulf him. 

"Uh, oh. He's going to blow. We'd better cool him down." He turned to see who said that when he was suddenly drenched in water. When the cascade ended, he cleared his eyesight to find Skip and the girls, holding a huge, dripping barrel that was at one time filled with water. They were splitting their sides laughing. 

Apollo stood there, sputtering. "Very funny, people." he said. 

He started to laugh with them. They all enjoyed the joke until Skip and Sam felt themselves get picked up. Apollo tucked them each under one arm. "Hey! What are you doing?!" yelled Sam. 

"Yeah, bud! It was just a joke!" Skip exclaimed. "C'mon, let us down!" 

Apollo simply smiled. Everyone noticed the commotion and followed Apollo. He led the group outside and toward the huge fountain in the center of the grounds, Sam and Skip kicking and screaming every step of the way. As soon as he reached his destination, he unceremoniously launched both of them in. The crowd started laughing. Karen was so caught up in the situation that she didn't notice until too late that she was right next to Apollo. He picked her up, held her over his head, and she followed her friends' route into the fountain. His audience cheered; he stood up on the lip of the fountain and gave them a theatrical bow. The three in the pool all nodded in unison, then they each grabbed Apollo and pulled him in with them. He came up spitting water out, and it turned into a knock-down, drag-out, water fight. When they all came out, much of the stress of that day had been worked off. 

~ * ~ 

The next morning, Apollo woke to the sound of soft breathing in his ear. He slowly turned his head to find Sam resting soundly. Apollo simply let her sleep, using her breathing to allow him to slip more easily into a meditative state. If he was right about what was in store for them today, he would need to be as ready for it as he could be about anything, and Sam would need his support, too. Privately, he had been dreading this day, enjoying the time they had together as much as he possibly could. In fact, if it could be said that humans could bond as readily as Vulcans could, then that was what happened between these two people. Skip even asked him jokingly about when the wedding would be. On the surface, Apollo would laugh, but inside he was torn, because he knew this day was coming. 

His thoughts were interrupted by a soft peck under his chin. He looked to see her gazing up at him. 

"Good morning," he whispered. 

"Hi," she answered. She stretched; Apollo watched her body move under the coverlet and fought down a wave of hormones. It wouldn't make today any easier. "You looked deep in thought. Anything you'd like to share?" 

He gazed into her eyes, wondering what he should say. He sighed. "Well, for one thing, I was thinking of what was in store for us today." 

She searched his face, trying to figure out what he said. Her eyes brightened when she figured it out. "We get our first assignments today!" In her excitement, she practically jumped out of bed in order to get ready, and Apollo fought off yet another desire. "I can't wait to find out where they're sending us." 

"Sam, there's something I need to talk about." The intensity of his statement caused her to stop in her tracks. Now that he got her attention, he decided to go for broke. "I know you're excited, and it would be great if we got a starship together... but there's a little truth in the matter." He paused, then let her have it. "As nice as it would be, the chance that we'll be posted together is rather slim. In fact, it will be more than likely that... that we'll be assigned to different ships." 

When the implication of what he said reached her, she looked as though he had just slapped her in the face. "You don't mean that, do you? I'm sure they could work something out." 

"Starfleet will send us where they need us the most. Our needs won't necessarily be significant to them." He felt horrible telling her this. "I knew all along what I was getting into when I joined Starfleet. That's why I enjoyed the last couple of months as I did. I... just thought you had that in mind, too." 

Sam was definitely hurt. "So, is that it? You figured that this was all fun and now that we're moving on it's 'Well, I had fun, but see ya, honey?' What a lousy way to act." She finished dressing, a bit more forcefully than necessary. 

"No, that's not what I meant. We can still keep in touch, or who knows, maybe we will be posted together. I couldn't ask for more." Apollo stepped toward her, but she moved away. 

"It's okay. You're right. I was an idiot to think this could last, anyway." She put her hand to her head, as if physically trying to push back tears. "I hope you get what you want." 

"Sam, wait!" He tried to stop her, but she already rushed out the door, and he still was in no condition to be seen in public. Within a few minutes later, though, he rectified the situation and plunged out the door. When he left the building, she was nowhere in sight. Apollo decided he might as well get it over with, and headed to the administrative building to get his assignment. 

There was a small outdoor waiting area next to the Admin building, where some cadets had taken to wait their turns to get their assignments. Skip was there waiting for him. "Morning, Apollo." He jerked a thumb behind him, toward the building's entrance. "I just saw Sam fly by me. I take it you told her what to expect." 

Apollo merely nodded. He had already confided his fears with Skip a few days ago. They agreed that letting the girls know up front was the best way to handle it. "How about you?" 

Skip shrugged. "Karen's got a good head on her shoulders; now that I think about it, she's got some pretty good shoulders, too, as well as anything underneath that." Apollo nudged him, moving him a meter or two. Skip chuckled, but quickly grew serious. "Yeah, she doesn't like it, but she accepts it. I take it Sam saw things differently." 

"She was going on the premise that we'd be assigned somewhere together." 

They shook their heads. "Poor girl," Skip said. "I hope she gets over it." 

At that moment, Sam stepped outside. She looked almost worse than when she ran from Apollo's room. She didn't say a word. She simply walked over to Apollo and put her arms around him. Her body shook with sobs. Just then, Karen appeared at the doorway. The look on her face told the men that she had sat Sam down and talked with her. 

Apollo just held her. He looked and saw a padd in her hand; he took it. "It seems she took the liberty of getting our assignments for us." He scanned the padd, then handed it to Skip. 

Skip pored over the information. "The _USS Merrimac_. I hear she's a nice ship. But why Security?" 

"You have to start somewhere, I guess." Apollo looked down at Sam, who was just now starting to come to her senses. "Are you going to be okay, Sam?" 

Sam pulled away a little and nodded. Her face was red from tears. "Y-yeah. I'll be all right." She felt a little awkward. "I'm... I'm... sorry about what I said back there. I didn't mean any of it. It... it's just that I actually thought we would be together in this." 

Apollo's smile was comforting. "We'll still be together. Just because we'll be on separate ships doesn't mean we'll be apart. I'll always be thinking of you." 

Sam returned his smile. "I'll miss you, too." She shrugged. "And who knows. If the _Merrimac_ and the _Lexington_ are in the same sector, maybe..." 

"Count on it," Apollo said, concluding her thought. She smiled at his confidence. "Now then, Skip, when do you have to report to the _Alexander_?" 

"It says I don't have to go until tomorrow." 

Karen looked at the padd, smiling. "Did you see it, love? I'm on the _Alexander_, too! We're on the same ship! Isn't it wonderful?" She looked at them, then stopped. Apollo and Skip were cringing, while Sam looked a little forlorn. "Oh. Oh, Sam, I'm sorry. Here I am, acting like this when you... oh, I'm so sorry." She moved over to give Sam a hug. 

"It's okay, really, Karen," Sam replied. "I really am happy for you two." She returned to Apollo's side. "Besides, I have a good feeling that we'll see each other again." 

"Hey, I thought I was the one who was supposed to see the future." Apollo whined, feigning a hurt look. 

"Maybe it's rubbing off on me," she responded, smiling up at him. 

"Humph." came a sound from Skip's direction. 

"What's wrong?" Apollo asked. 

"Well, the _Alexander_ doesn't sound like a very exciting ship. Isn't it one of those small classes of ships? _Hermes_, I think?" 

Karen squeezed him. "Oh, don't worry. I'm sure we can make it exciting." 

"Let me see that again." Apollo took the padd from his friend. "Let's see. NCC-511. NCC-511." He rolled the ship's registry number through his mind, until he straightened with recognition. He then lightly swatted his friend across the head. "You idiot. _Alexander_ isn't Hermes class, it's Saladin." He waited until he was sure that the meaning sank into Skip's brain. "That's right, my friend. You two are going to be on a destroyer. If it's anything life will be, it certainly won't be boring. Congratulations." He continued looking at the sheet. "Sam, you're going to a _Constitution_-class ship; that's a heavy cruiser. The fleet doesn't have too many of them. And mine..." he paused as he searched his head some more. "Mine's also a heavy cruiser. One of the newer ones." 

Sam looked bewildered. "I thought they were all the same." 

"No, no," he said, easily slipping into teacher mode. Skip recognized this and rolled his eyes. "When the first _Constitution_ ships came out, today's technology was still being discovered. They frequently had to report to starbases for upgrades. Ships like the _Merrimac_, however, already had these upgrades incorporated into their designs. It's a lot easier to build a ship pre-improved from the keel up than it is to keep going in for refits. In fact, I understand that even now, they're finalizing designs on the next major refit on these ships." 

Apollo stopped his lecture and looked at his friends. Sam appeared to be intensely studying the padd in Apollo's hands. Karen was looking around at the scenery, and Skip was leaning against the wall; whether he was actually sleeping or only pretending to do so remained to be seen. 

Sam looked up from the padd. "I'm sorry, were you telling us something important?" 

Sam got swatted, while the other two managed to duck. "Come on. Let's throw us a going away party." They threw their arms around each others' shoulders and walked four abreast down the walkway. 


	10. Origins Chapter Ten

_CHAPTER TEN_

They met up in the transporter room of Starbase One. "Well, Apollo," Skip said, pumping his friend's arm, "it's been real fun. I hope to see you again sometime." He left Karen on the pad and came up close to Apollo. "And confidentially, what I said a couple of years ago still holds. You find yourself in the captain's chair one day, you let me know. I wouldn't mind serving with you." 

"Ditto, buddy. Have yourself a great adventure." He watched as Skip stepped up to the pad next to Karen. He signaled, and the transporter operator activated the controls. They disappeared in sparkling coalescence. 

He turned to his lover, looking solemn. "Looks like it's your turn." 

"Uh huh." Sam stood there for a few seconds, then gave Apollo a hug. "You take care of yourself, now. I'm looking forward to sharing shore leave with you." 

"The feeling's mutual," he said. He turned her toward the pad and gave her a gentle push. "Now get going. I don't think your captain will appreciate you being late." 

Before she got up on the pad, she turned quickly, and before he could react, she kissed him. Then, stepping into position, she looked at him and waved. Apollo thought she looked so vulnerable at that point. He wanted to scoop her up in his arms, but fought the urge. "Goodbye," she said to him. The operator took that as his cue and beamed her over to her ship. 

Apollo hung his head, feeling the weight of this departure. He walked up the platform and took his place. Taking a deep breath he stood up straight. "Energize," he said firmly. 

He felt a moment's disorientation, the way he always did when he used a transporter. When it ended, he saw a different room. A different person stood behind a console similar to the one he just saw, but there were two officers standing next to him. One of them approached him with his hand extended; Apollo could clearly see the two and a half braids encircling the sleeve of his gold tunic. "Lieutenant Racer," the officer said, "I'm Captain Peterson. This is my first officer, Commander Stevens." 

"Hello, Captain," Apollo said warmly, "Lieutenant Racer reporting for duty, sir." 

"I'm glad to have you, son... er, excuse me. I received word that you don't particularly like that term." 

"Well, sir, I have to admit, it doesn't really suit me." 

Peterson laughed. "I completely understand. Look, Stevens here will show you to your quarters. What's say we start your orientation tonight at dinner. Will that be okay?" 

Apollo was a little taken aback. _Pretty informal, isn't he?_ "Why... yes, sir. If you insist. I mean, we could do it sooner if you'd like." 

"Nonsense. You need to settle in first. Tonight will be just fine. Now, I have to be on the bridge, so if you'll excuse me." With that clearly sounding like a dismissal, the captain turned on his heel and walked out of the room. Apollo immediately sensed that the temperature in the room seemed to drop a few degrees. He looked over toward the operator; he was starting to fidget. Apollo decided to study what seemed to be the apparent reason for his unease. 

Commander Stevens was obviously not as laid back as his captain. He was six-foot-six, largely built, and extremely stiff. His eyes burned like ice, and the look on his face told Apollo that this man knew who and what he was, and he wasn't too pleased. The lieutenant immediately decided that he did not like this man. 

"If you'll come with me, Lieutenant." He gestured toward the door, but walked through it before Apollo did. Walking through the corridor was pretty silent. Later, upon reflection, Apollo judged that it was halfway to his quarters when Stevens finally spoke. "You may as well know now. You're not going to get any special treatment on this ship." 

_Oh, great_, Apollo thought, _he's got a chip on his shoulder. If it's one thing I don't need on my first mission, it's someone like Quinn_. He felt, however, that Stevens wasn't going to be as easy to enlighten as Quinn. "I don't expect it at all, sir." 

"That's right. Remember that." They entered a turbolift, but before any commands were given, he allowed the doors to shut before continuing. "I don't care how the captain treats you, but around me, you'll stick to protocols. Is that understood?" 

"Yes, sir." Apollo ached to give this guy a smart-assed remark, but somehow, he felt that it wouldn't be a good idea at this time. 

"Deck eight," Stevens ordered. The lift started to move. "I'll be watching you, Racer. Don't think that just because you left the Academy a lieutenant, you know more than an ensign." 

"Uh, with all due respect, sir, I do know more than an ensign. In fact, I've probably forgotten more than you'll ever learn, sir." 

Stevens backed Apollo against the turbolift wall. "Don't you dare get smart with me, Lieutenant, or I will not hesitate to make an example of you! Is that clear!?" 

Apollo didn't turn his gaze away; he matched it, to show this overgrown alpha wolf that he wasn't about to back down from bullying, regardless of rank. "Crystal... _sir_," he said through clenched teeth. Stevens waited a moment before moving away. "Permission to speak freely, sir." 

"Denied," Stevens snapped back. 

The rest of the trip was in silence. When Apollo finally reached his quarters, he stood in the center of them for a moment. Then he dropped himself into a nearby chair and audibly let out a breath. "Whew." He wiped his brow. If he didn't watch himself, this was going to be a very long tour. 

~ * ~ 

The next day didn't give him any more insight into the first officer. At the dinner last night, he carried himself with such dignity and composure that Apollo knew it was a ruse. He thought about exposing him to the captain, but he figured that if Stevens managed to pull this off for this long, it stood to reason that others have had the same thought, and met with less than desirable results. Besides, this was only his first day aboard ship; he didn't think he had much clout here yet. So he kept shut about it. When the end of the night came, Stevens gave Apollo a smug look, as if he were rubbing it in that he had gotten away with something. Right then and there, Apollo silently vowed that he would do something to wipe that smug look off that man's face, even if it took his entire tour on that ship; he also made this vow in full realization that if he weren't careful, that tour could wind up mighty short, mighty quick. 

For now, though, Apollo shunted those thoughts to the back of his mind as he reported to his duty section. Though he wore a gold tunic when he arrived on board, he had changed into a red tunic to report to Security. Before he went to sleep that night, he decided to memorize the ship's layout, a good measure if he were to be one of the personnel in charge of keeping it safe. It was also necessary because he couldn't get that smugness out of his head long enough to sleep peacefully. 

The Security section was pretty much the same as on other ships. He entered into a large foyer. There was a gray desk with a black top for the person on watch; behind that were three doors, two red and one gray. The one on the left was the Security Chief's office and the one on the right was the conference room. The third door, the gray one, directly across from him, looked more fortified. This was the door to the brig; its door was three times as thick as normal doors, phaser resistant, and force field protected. The field, of course, was off at the time; you don't expect to have prisoners when you're leaving Earth. Apollo envisioned Stevens in a cell beyond those doors, and his day brightened. 

The security person at the desk hopped up to attention. "Good morning, sir. Commander Brooks is expecting you." 

Apollo studied the sharp officer. He realized that he'd also have to memorize the crew manifest so he could get the names right. "Thank you, ensign." He moved around the desk and upon approaching the office, the door opened and he entered. 

A man sat at the desk inside. He was looking over a report on a padd, twirling a stylus while doing so. His sleeve bore the rank of Lieutenant Commander, but he looked relatively young. It went with the rumors Apollo heard: that on board a starship, one didn't make it to old age as Security Chief, just an early grave; unless they were good. Apollo stopped at attention in front of the desk. "Lieutenant Racer reporting for duty, sir." 

The man merely looked up at him, then resumed reading at a leisurely pace. When he finished, he looked back up... Apollo hadn't budged an inch. He got up and moved around the desk. Slowly circling Apollo, he headed toward the door. For a moment, Apollo though he was going to leave him in that position. He heard the door open. "Ensign," he began, "who put this statue in my office?" 

The ensign looked up, completely flabbergasted. "Sir, no one sir. Lieutenant Racer was supposed to be meeting you. I thought..." 

"I thought so. He must be some type of trickster, entering my office and leaving that... facsimile of himself, thinking that I wouldn't notice, and he could get out of meeting with me." He wagged a finger at the ensign. "If you see him, tell him I want a word with him." He re-entered his office without waiting for acknowledgment. Again he slowly circled Apollo, whom he noted still hadn't moved. "All right, you'll do. At ease, Lieutenant." When he noticed his new arrival visibly relax, he extended his hand. "I'm Lieutenant Commander Brooks. You must be our eager new lieutenant. Welcome aboard." 

"Thank you, sir," Apollo replied, shaking his hand. 

Brooks returned to his seat. "It's not often that we get full lieutenants straight out of the Academy. What did you do to be so special?" 

"Well, for one thing, I've served in a military organization before." 

"Yes, I notice that." He gestured to the padd. It was then that Apollo realized that Brooks was reading his file when he came in. "What else?" 

"Well, there was the fact of the no-win..." 

"Stop right there!" Brooks said it firmly enough that Apollo did stop in his tracks. "I don't know how serious the Academy thinks confidentiality is back home, but out here, there's a little matter of secrecy. No one is supposed to mention that scenario in public." Apollo was taken aback by such a faux pas. "However," Brooks continued, "considering that I am security chief, it's natural to assume that I've been granted security clearance. Yes, your results are in a locked section of your personnel file, and I'm allowed to read that section so I know what to expect from my men." He paused. "Besides your outstanding performance in your classes, there's also mention that you helped your fellow cadets on the side. You even participated in a rescue during one incident. Care to elaborate?" 

Apollo shrugged. "There was a fire, my friends were involved, I got them out. End of story." 

Brooks looked at him skeptically. "Uh huh. Well, if that's all you want to tell me, then that's as far as I'll take it; although I should warn you, your record goes into a little more detail than that. In fact, there are some areas in your file that even I can't get access to, which in itself is uncommon. But I'm not one to hold things over people's heads, unlike some people." He caught Apollo's speculative expression. "Yes, I'm talking out our illustrious first officer. I know you've met him. The general scuttlebutt around the ship is that he's a pompous ass. But he does his job, so no one gets in his way. Those who do find themselves on the business end of a transfer. But don't worry, as long as you stay out of his way and do your job, everything should go fine." 

Apollo smiled at that, but he was actually wondering if his life would be that simple. 

~ * ~ 

"Racer to _Merrimac_! Come in, _Merrimac_!" Apollo had been yelling into his communicator for about five minutes. Disruptor fire screamed past his head. _How did I get myself into this_, he thought. He was supposed to be part of a landing party. They were investigating strange readings on the planet's surface. They beamed down to find a Klingon outpost. Apollo wondered how Klingons managed to get this far into Federation space, but now he felt like he jarred a hornet's nest, and the little beasties got ticked off. Except these beasties could do more than just sting. He looked to his right to confirm that thought. Nicholson, his partner, was down. He was glanced by a shot, and as a result, he had a huge, gaping wound in the side of his leg. Fredericks wasn't as lucky. The only thing left of her was a black outline on the boulder she was next to; she managed to get caught full in the chest. Now her component atoms were defacing a rock. 

They were in a small clearing; Stevens and the medical officer, Browning, were trapped across the clearing from Apollo. Stevens made a move to try to get a better position. "Stay down, sir! It's too dangerous!" Apollo yelled. As if to emphasize his statement, the tree next to him was disintegrated. 

Stevens ignored Apollo's warning. He headed out. "Dammit, Ted, what in blazes do you think you're doing?" Browning shouted. He looked to Apollo. "Well, don't just sit there. Do something!" 

Apollo rolled his eyes and took a deep breath. He silently but quickly counted to three, and took off. Browning never saw him change position. Before anyone knew it, Apollo had used his momentum to push Stevens to a large boulder closer to the outpost. 

Stevens slammed against the rock. When he took in what happened, he hissed at Apollo. "What the hell are you trying to do, kill me!?" 

"No, sir. I think you can do that just fine on your own. What _I'm_ doing is saving your butt. Sir." Apollo couldn't believe that he was getting bitched at for moving the idiot out of the line of fire. He didn't even register the blackened hole that appeared where Stevens would have been had Apollo not moved. 

Too late, he saw Browning make a run for their spot. "Don't..." Apollo started, but as he spoke, a bright red beam struck Browning. He glowed for an instant, then disappeared. Apollo clenched his teeth in rage. He darted out, shot whoever had killed Browning, then darted back in before he could get hit himself. 

"Contact the ship," ordered Stevens. 

"Sir, I've been trying to. From their lack of response, I'd say they have their hands as full as we do." Apollo replied wearily. 

"Don't question my orders, Lieutenant! Just do as you're told!" His shout was punctuated a piece of boulder being taken off above his head. 

"Why don't you just shout a little louder so they can pinpoint us." Apollo took his attention off of Stevens and tried his communicator again. "Racer to _Merrimac_, come in _Merrimac_. If you're able, please respond." 

Static crackled over the communicator for a minute. Suddenly, it cleared up. _"Landing party, this is the _Merrimac_. Sorry we couldn't respond sooner. Had a little matter of taking out a Klingon battle cruiser trying to sneak up on us. We scan more of the suckers not far from you. Do you need assistance?"_

"Yes, we do. We lost Browning and Fredericks. Nicholson is down with a bad leg wound. Commander Stevens and myself are pinned down. We..." 

Stevens yanked out his own communicator. "We need to get beamed out of here immediately. Can you lock onto us?" 

"Stand by." 

Apollo glared at him. "You're just going to run?" 

"We can take care of them from orbit. Like shooting ducks in a barrel." 

Apollo's eyes grew wide with shock. "I can't believe this. You'd murder them in cold blood?" 

"Look what they did to Fredericks and Browning! Now this is a direct order! We're beaming up to the ship, and you can put yourself on report for insubordination!" 

That pushed Apollo past the breaking point. "The hell with your orders and the hell with your report! I will not participate in such a dishonorable venture! You can go up to the ship yourself!" He reset his phaser and stepped out. One moment, Stevens saw him; the next thing he knew, Apollo was gone. 

"_Merrimac_," Stevens said into the communicator, "one to beam up." 

~ * ~ 

Apollo was a blur. He slowed down long enough to draw a bead on a Klingon, then stun him into submission. The rage he felt at losing his friends and at Stevens' behavior only focused his concentration. He steadily moved inward. It was only when he was in their control room did he realize that he took care of the last one. He stepped outside to notice Klingon bodies sprawled everywhere. He took the tricorder strapped to his side to confirm that they were still alive. Satisfied, he contacted the ship. "Racer to _Merrimac_." 

Silence for a second. Then, _"Lieutenant, is that you?"_

Apollo decided he deserved a wisecrack. "No, this is a Klingon. I only sound like your Lieutenant Racer. What do you think?" He paused to shift gears. "The outpost has been secured. If it's prisoners you want, you have your pick. We can beam the whole kit and kaboodle up if you want." 

Silence again; then a different voice came over the communicator. "_Racer, this is Captain Peterson. What the devil happened down there? We received reports that you were killed_." 

Apollo fumed; he knew exactly where those reports came from. "I can assure you, reports of my demise have been grossly exaggerated. I could use some rest right now, though." 

"_Understood. Stand by to beam up. And Racer. Well done_." 

"Thank you, sir." He closed his communicator and looked around at the smoking ruins that used to be an outpost. The last thing Apollo thought when the transporter beam whisked him away was how much Starfleet was going to have a cow when they found out about this. 

~ * ~ 

Apollo had been met by the captain. He praised his security officer for securing the outpost and obtaining prisoners to interrogate. The Klingon Empire was definitely going to catch hell for this. Brooks had read Apollo's report and granted him the rest of his shift off. 

He was resting on his bed when his door chime went off. Thanks to one of his premonitions, he was ready for this. "Computer, record," he said. When the computer finished chittering, he sat up on his bed. "Enter," he said wearily. 

Stevens marched in through the opening doors; he didn't look very happy. "Racer, I'd like to have a word with you. Your actions today were totally irresponsible. You were supposed to protect the landing party from danger, and instead lives were lost. Then, instead of acting like a team member, you took off like some crazed hotshot and unnecessarily risked your life to achieve what we could have done from orbit. You're not supposed to think, you're supposed to follow orders." 

Apollo just looked at Stevens from his prone position. "Are you quite finished, sir?" Stevens couldn't believe that answer, so Apollo took it as a yes. He stood in front of the first officer. "Permission to speak freely, sir." 

Stevens' eyes narrowed. "Go right ahead." He wondered what this mere lieutenant could say to him. 

He didn't expect a right cross to solidly connect with his jaw, sending him flying across the room to slam into a bulkhead. He started to get up, but Apollo gave him a look that told him to stay down. He complied. Apollo started to pace. "For the past year, I've been calmly taking whatever abuse you've been dishing to me and the crew. I could tolerate your little delusions of grandeur, because in my eyes, they didn't cause much harm. But today you took things too far. Your behavior reflected that of a spineless coward who was looking for the easy way out. To make things worse, you left me for dead down there, and you told the captain I didn't make it. If we did things your way, we would never have found out why they were down there." 

"I had no idea you were alive! With all that firepower, no one could have survived on their own!" 

Apollo was silent for a moment, to maintain his composure, then continued. "I've noticed how you show one side in front of the captain, but in his absence you show your true colors. Yes, you're really the model officer." He sat down on his bed. "Now, I suppose you could have me court-martialed for striking a superior officer, but you're not going to do it, and if you think I'm blackmailing you, this whole conversation is being recorded and will be put in a report to the captain as soon as I'm finished." 

Stevens was flustered. He wanted to say something, but nothing would escape his lips. Apollo concluded his little speech. "It's my job to protect this ship and its crew from any threat. That goes for within as well as from without. Which means that if I so choose, your butt could be in the brig right now. But I think you have those commander's stripes on your sleeve for some reason, though it completely escapes my logic. I'll let you decide how you're going to rectify the situation. Computer, end recording." Apollo grabbed his tunic and a disk from out of his terminal. Then he marched out the door towards the captain's quarters. 

~ * ~ 

His plan worked too well. It had opened Captain Peterson's eyes to what Stevens did behind his back. It also made him think that if Stevens was doing wrong, then others were, too. A ship-wide investigation was started, and Security found a number of people who were essentially working around the rules. For two solid weeks, reprimands were being dished out on a regular basis; some were severe enough to result in a loss of rank for some individuals. Unfortunately, Apollo found that some of the people he could have counted on as friends were implicated. The very people who complained that someone should stand up to their bully of a first officer suddenly turned on Apollo. He was alienated from the crew, no longer trusted with their secrets. He tried sticking it out, but after being excluded from every landing party since that incident, he realized that sometimes the system comes back to bite him in the ass. He never got court-martialed for decking Stevens, but it turns out he didn't have to. As soon as they reached the Starbase 14, Apollo applied for a transfer, and the _Merrimac_ left him behind. 

As no ship was scheduled to arrive in the near future, Apollo was temporarily assigned to the starbase. He tried to get in touch with his friends, but the _Alexander_ was on a mission that required communications blackout, and the _Lexington_ was too far out of range for the message to do any good. It would take Sam months to hear from him, and he hadn't heard from her since his arrival on the _Merrimac_, though he sent several messages to her. Still, he sent a message her way and hoped she would receive it. 

After spending six months on Starbase 14, he was promoted to Lieutenant Commander, due in part to his efforts on the _Merrimac_, but coming too late to do him any good. He satisfied himself with doing administrative work - Starbase 14 had its own security force - and boned up on technical manuals of the base, along with those of different starships. He even managed to get his hands on an intelligence report of a Klingon battle cruiser. 

But all the paperwork only managed to deepen his depression. While the personnel were civil enough, his incident on the _Merrimac_ was still fresh on their minds, and they gave him a wide berth. After eight months, all he had to look forward to was going to the officer's lounge after his shift. Since no one would sit with him, he figured that he wouldn't waste the table space, and sat at the bar. 

One night, he was sitting there, staring at a half-empty glass of Saurian Brandy, his third for the night. He heard someone come up behind him, but he was too far down to acknowledge it. Then he heard a familiar voice behind him. 

"I'll have what this gentleman's having. Saurian Brandy, isn't it?" Apollo twirled in his seat to see Captain Kirk smiling at him. 

Apollo almost jumped off his seat, but remembered the standing rule in the lounge, set by the base commander himself: In the officer's lounge, there are no officers. "Captain Kirk, what a surprise." His depression wasn't serious enough to prevent him from returning the smile, but his tone clearly revealed his mood. "Would you like to join me?" 

Kirk accepted, sitting next to Apollo as the bartender set his glass down in front of him. "Well, a lieutenant commander," the captain said, noting the stripes on Apollo's sleeve. "Not gunning for captain too fast, are we?" 

Apollo chuckled. "Nothing of the sort. Just doing my job." 

"Yes, well if you were 'just doing your job', you wouldn't be lieutenant commander." Kirk shifted gears. "I heard what happened," he said in a more compassionate tone. 

The smiled abruptly left Apollo's face. "Did you now." He turned to face the bar, and noticed his glass was empty. _When did I finish this_, he asked himself, and ordered another one. "News travels fast." 

Kirk kept his smile. "Fastest thing in the Federation. You know, you did your ship a good service. Not many people would have the guts to come out and say that something's wrong with the command structure, especially when they're under it. I'm impressed." 

Apollo snorted. "Forgive me for saying this sir," he said, forgetting lounge policy, "but if that came from anyone but you, I would have been insulted. And I certainly don't need to be patronized." He didn't hear an answer, and looked at Kirk. The captain had a look on his face that Apollo had seen before. This was the type of man who wouldn't ask you to elaborate, but his behavior compelled you to do so anyway. "Because of what I did, I lost any standing I had on my ship, I have a lot of people who don't trust me anymore, not just those on the _Merrimac_. I'm not so sure that even you should be seen with me right now." 

Kirk's face grew stern. "Walk with me." He got up and waited. Apollo figured the man was going to stand there until he complied, so he drained his glass again and joined him. They walked until Kirk was sure no one would deliberately listen in. "Don't do this to yourself. I've seen a lot of fine officers walk the line. Some of them fall one way or the other, but a few rare people manage to keep their balance. Yes, people are going to be uncomfortable with you, but that's because on the _Merrimac_, you gave those people a good swift kick in their complacency. You've rocked the boat, but you've done it for the right reasons, and that's what counts." 

Apollo kneaded and rolled that advice in his head. As he did, two men walked up to Kirk. "Come on, Jim, the concert's about to start." He looked over Kirk's shoulders and saw Apollo. "Oh, excuse us, Commander, but we've got to drag our captain to an appointment." 

The other officer, a Vulcan, raised his eyebrow. "Yes, Captain. You had only spent the past 2.63 days boasting about how you looked forward to this event." 

"Yes, gentleman, in a minute. I was talking to Commander Racer here..." 

The blue-eyed gentleman spoke up. He had a southern accent that Apollo actually found quite pleasing. "Is this the one you told us about a couple of years ago?" He reached around Kirk to shake Racer's hand. "Well, I always wanted to meet the person who knocked our captain down a notch." 

Apollo was bewildered. "I assume you mean my test scores at the Academy." 

Kirk grinned. "Commander Racer, this is my chief medical officer, Dr. McCoy, and my first officer, Mr. Spock." 

Apollo shook McCoy's hand, then he turned to Spock. "Greetings, Spock," he said, raising his hand in the Vulcan salute. "I am honored to finally meet you." 

"And you as well, Commander." Spock returned the salute with the greetings. "My mother has spoken of you." 

"It is a privilege to be the subject of such a pleasant woman's conversation." He turned to Kirk. "If you would excuse me, I'd like to finish my 'business'." 

Kirk looked at him wryly. "As a matter of fact, I believe our table seats four, isn't that right, Bones?" He looked sideways at Dr. McCoy, who nodded confirmation. "You're welcome to join us, if you'd like." 

Apollo didn't give it a second thought. "I'd consider it an honor, Captain." As they walked to the auditorium, he and Spock were conversing. "Your father is a very wise man." 

"Yes, he is." He looked at Apollo. "And I find any individual who can keep up with his teaching habits worthy of respect." 

"Well, Jim, I think we finally found Spock a friend." McCoy uttered dryly. All Kirk could do was grin at the comment. 


	11. Origins Chapter Eleven

_CHAPTER ELEVEN_

Apollo finally got a ship later that year. Ironically, it was the starship _USS Monitor_, undoubtedly the _Merrimac_'s sister ship. He was assigned as Security Chief; however, as soon as the captain got over the skepticism of having him aboard, and finding out that he wasn't too bad of a pilot at the Academy, she not only warmed to him as a fellow officer, but she also tried him out at the helm. Apollo was impressed by the fact that as large of a ship as she was, the _Monitor_ handled like dream. It was almost like being in his old fighter, _Starfighter 1_. Of course, this ship had a lot more power to her. Satisfied with his performance, the captain told him that he could double as a relief helmsman. 

Apollo was glad that he could still be trusted, but he kept any emotion in control. He never let anyone know that the incident aboard the _Merrimac_ affected him more than he let on. He kept mainly to himself, never socializing with the crew. Quite basically, he never made any friends there. He felt that it was going to be a long and unfulfilling journey. 

He was wrong. More than once, the _Monitor_ got into scrapes on more than one occasion that allowed him to prove himself. For some reason, though, it never reached very deeply inside him. More than once, he was commended and decorated for his unswerving loyalty and bravery under critical situations. If asked, he would say at first that he was only doing his duty. Just when he started to feel comfortable aboard the ship, he was injured while on a landing party; they discovered his enhancements, and how they allowed him to take more chances than normal. The captain began to see him as a valuable asset to the crew, enough to promote him to a full Commander. As to how the crew thought of him, he found mixed emotions. If he allowed himself to be more open, he could have made some good friends. Some of them wouldn't be anything but afraid of him. 

One day, he was entering the officer's lounge. As he walked up to a replicator for something to eat, he overheard a conversation about him at a nearby table. 

"Makes you wonder how much of him is real and how much is a machine." 

"That's probably why he's always acted so cold. His heart's made of metal." 

"If you ask me, it scares the daylights out of me." 

He never asked for this. Most likely, they didn't even know he was standing there. But stand there he did, gripping the edge of the counter of the replicator, trying to get his emotions under control. The replicator was beeping that his food was ready, but he didn't acknowledge it. 

It did attract the attention of group at the table. "Excuse me, sir," called a lieutenant sitting at the table. "Your food is ready." 

Apollo slowly turned around to face them; he got some small pleasure at seeing the looks on their faces when they realized that the subject of their discussion was standing right there, listening to every word they said. Even that pleasure faded, though, when he found that the lieutenant who spoke to him, the one who did most of the talking the whole time, was one of his lieutenants in Security. Whatever feelings of rapport he had with this crew vanished immediately. 

His food forgotten, he approached their table, their looks of terror becoming more pronounced with each step he took. He smiled and leaned right in until his face was an inch away from the lieutenant's face. "You know," he said, slowly, calmly, deliberately, "you shouldn't talk about a guy behind his back. You never know what he might do..." his arm came down so quickly, in a pile driver move, that the table didn't have a chance to break in two. He simply put a neat, fist-sized hole in the metal top, causing both officers to jump in their seats. "...if he found out." He stood, went over to the replicator and canceled his order. It promptly shut the door on his food, only to break it down into its constituent components for later use. Apollo walked out of the lounge, his appetite destroyed. 

~ * ~ 

The next day, Apollo was called to the captain's office. When he entered, he didn't need to stand at attention; of all the people he knew on the ship, he had come to know Captain Howell as a friend. "Sit down," she said. By her tone of voice, it was more than a request, but less than an order. "I went into the lounge this morning for breakfast. Would you like to know what I found?" He remained silent, so she continued. "I found this little hole in a table. It was the perfect size for me to put my cup of coffee there. I thought 'How ingenious. Someone had the foresight to put a cup holder in a table so that it wouldn't spill if we went into combat.' The one thing I found strange was that there wasn't at least one hole for every table." She paused to pin him with a stare that she found so useful when questioning people. "Would you care to tell me how it got there?" 

Apollo sat silent in his chair, not looking down, but not exactly looking at the captain, either. He had the sensation of being a kid who was caught tracking mud into the house. "I'm sorry, sir. It was my fault. I've... been under a lot of stress lately. I guess I just lost control." 

"With you, that could be a little dangerous," she said, half in jest. She decided to come right out and say it. "Commander, I know what happened in the lounge." His head snapped to lock her eyes with his. "Oh, yes, very little slips by me on this ship. It can't afford to." She paced a little, then stopped in the same place she was in. "Apollo, why don't you tell me of these things? When my officers go through some personal doubts, I'd like to know if it will impede with their performance." 

Apollo had recovered from the last shock. This time his control was in place. "I was never in danger of having my personal problems interfere with my work." 

"I understand, but you're still having them. I was always here to help, but you just shut everyone out, and that's not healthy. There are people here who would love to get to know you. Hell, our engineer wants to write a paper about your enhancements." 

The corners of Apollo's mouth turned slightly upward. "Hate to disappoint him, but that's already been done. I don't think my doctor was going to let anyone beat him out of his achievement." 

"But you yourself said you modified them. I saw an example of that in the lounge." She smiled a little, enough to allow him to relax some. "I only wish I had known this before it was too late." 

Apollo was puzzled, but he received an urgent sense of something disturbing. He stood up. "Too late? Too late for what?" 

She sighed and headed to her desk, where she handed him a padd. As he glanced through it, she explained. "Captain Jeff Thomas of the _Excalibur_ is to rendezvous with us. He lost his first officer in a recent border dispute with the Romulans. He asked me for one, knowing that I owed him a favor." She paused, letting Apollo completely register what she was saying, and what the padd read. "As soon as he gets here, you're to transfer over to him as his first officer. Please understand, this isn't anything against you, and it has nothing to do with your past incidents. It was simply a case that he was searching for an officer, and you were the best choice for him. He made that choice, not me. If it were up to me, you'd be my first officer, when the one I have leaves in a few months. Jeff got to me first." 

Strangely enough, a calm settled on Apollo. "I understand, Captain. When is he expected to arrive?" 

"He'll be here tomorrow." He saw a remorseful look on her face. She truly didn't want to lose him. 

But orders were orders. "I'll be ready for him, sir." 

~ * ~ 

He stood in the transporter room, once again wearing a gold tunic as he did when arriving on the _Merrimac_, except this time it bore one extra stripe. His captain and Captain Thomas entered. _Is that a look of affection passing between them_, he wondered. Thomas saw him standing there and smiled. "Commander Racer, it's a pleasure meeting you. I hope we get along as well as Keri here tells me you two did." 

"I hope so, too, sir," Apollo replied. "It'll... certainly be interesting." 

"Well, your reputation precedes you. I have a few of my crew who can't wait to meet you." He turned to Captain Howell. "Well, if you don't mind, we'll be leaving now." 

"It was certainly a pleasure meeting you again, Captain." Apollo couldn't mistake the slight undertone in her voice. When Howell said it was a pleasure, she meant it in more ways than one. "I just hope we can do it more often." 

"The feeling is mutual." He turned to Apollo. "But right now, I have to get my new first officer acquainted with his crew." He gestured toward the transporter platform; Apollo stepped up, and Thomas stood next to him. "Energize." 

Apollo felt the disorientation he usually felt with transport. It was eased a little by the fact that when it ended, it looked as if he never left. Transporter rooms looked the same on every starship of this class. The only thing that changed was the person operating the controls. "Welcome back, sir." The technician said. 

"Thank you, Lieutenant. I'd like you to meet our new first officer. Commander Racer, this is Lieutenant Schaffer. She's our transporter chief." 

Apollo held out his hand. Surprisingly, the gloom he felt aboard the _Monitor_ was somehow left behind, and he found a smile easily come to his face. "Pleased to meet you," he said, for once actually meaning it. 

They left the room and walked down the corridor. "Some of our crew is over at the _Monitor_. I guess the closest description I could give you of what they're doing is 'comparing notes'. It's always good to talk to another crew, trade a few stories, some technical bits." He glanced at Apollo. "I understand you're not too bad of a helmsman." 

"I can get by in a pinch," he said, modesty obviously showing through. 

Thomas chuckled. "I'll just bet you can." 

~ * ~ 

The tour went real well. The crew all seemed friendly toward him, but at this early point in time, Apollo couldn't tell if it was genuine or just an attempt to make him feel comfortable. When it was over, Captain Thomas suggested that Apollo get a bite to eat and some rest; then he would be shown his duties the next day. Apollo headed into the lounge. Upon entering, he couldn't help but notice that like transporter rooms, lounges looked pretty much the same as well. He looked at the nearest table, but shook his head. _No, silly, there wouldn't be a hole there. That's on another ship_. He shook his head again, just to make sure the cobwebs were fully kicked loose. He went over to the replicator, picked out a simple bowl of soup, and headed toward a table. The officers he passed on the way smiled and either nodded their greetings or waved to him. He simply nodded back, as his hands were full, and sat down to eat his soup. 

He took no more than a few bites when a voice penetrated the calm. "Oh, man! I can't believe they'll let anyone eat in this place! What's this ship coming to?" 

Apollo thought that somewhere in his mind, that voice sounded familiar. He turned around, and his eyes widened as he smiled. "Skip!" 

Sure enough, his Academy buddy was standing there in a red tunic of support personnel, lieutenant commander braids clearly glimmering on his sleeves. Apollo jumped up and clasped his friend by the arms. "My God, it's good to see you, old friend. Join me; I was just having dinner." 

"Hold on. Let me get something." Apollo returned to his seat, and shortly after, Skip sat down opposite him with a huge hoagie on a plate. "You wouldn't believe how long it took me to program the replicators to make this just right; but boy, it's worth it. So, you old dog, what brings you around my stomping grounds?" 

Apollo was intrigued that Skip didn't know. "Oh, I'm doing my captain a favor. I'm going to be Captain Thomas' first officer." 

Skip looked incredulous. He looked at Apollo, then out a viewport, then back to him. "What the... you mean... get outta town!" His face split in a grin. "We're actually going to serve on the same ship? Unbelievable." 

"Yeah, well, I found it hard to believe that I got these so quickly." He lifted his arm, indicating his commander's stripes. "I thought that it would take a lot longer." 

"If the stories I've heard are true, then you deserve to wear them." 

"Yeah, yeah. I've heard that before. So, how is Karen? Is she here, too, or did you two get separated in reassignment?" 

Skip dropped his smile. Apollo started to worry. "Yeah, she got reassigned. She's back on Earth, doing Admin work." Apollo looked disappointed, but Skip's frown became a wide smile. "At least until the baby is born." 

Apollo was astonished. "My God! Congratulations! I never knew you had it in you." He laughed, he was so overjoyed. Skip joined him. 

"And how's Sam. Have you heard from her?" Skip asked. 

This time it was Apollo's turn to frown, and Skip felt that it was no joke. "I... I haven't heard from her since she was on the _Lexington_. I hope she's doing okay. I mean, I've sent messages, but lately her responses have gotten few and far between." 

Skip waved him off. "Ah, don't worry. Last I heard, the _Lexington_'s fine. No word from Sam, but I'm sure she's doing great." 

"Yeah, well. I'm just a little concerned." The conversation was getting somber, so he shifted gears. "So what do you do on this tub, anyway?" 

Skip pointed at him, glaring mockingly. "Hey, now. Don't you call my ship a tub. It's not nice." 

"Your ship? But I thought Thomas..." Then it hit him. "No way. Chief engineer?" Skip smiled in confirmation. "Well, I'll be damned." 

"For calling my scow a tub, you should be." They had another laugh. The conversation continued long after the lounge had cleared. Finally, Skip stood up. "Well, I have to get some rest. I start my shift bright and early tomorrow; that is, if you can tell what 'bright and early' is on a starship. Did you get your quarters, yet?" 

"Yeah, I found that out before I came here. Now that you mention it, I ought to call it a night as well. The captain's going to show me the ropes tomorrow." Apollo stood up as well. 

They looked at each other for a moment. Skip spoke first. "It's going to be real good working with you, pal. I mean that. I told you, I always hoped that I'd get to serve with you. I think you'll make a damn fine first officer. At least until you sit in your own captain's chair." 

Apollo let that sink in. "Thanks, Skip. That means a lot to me, more than you know." They shook hands. "See you tomorrow." 

As his friend turned to walk out, Skip noticed something about what Apollo just said. _There's something you're not telling me, buddy_, Skip thought, concerned. _I know I can't make you say anything, but I sure hope you tell me, or anybody, before what you're holding inside hurts you._ After that pensive thought, Skip's smile returned, along with the good feeling he had about Apollo being on this ship. 

~ * ~ 

Skip didn't have to wait long for that talk. 

About a month into their mission, Apollo showed up in Engineering after his shift ended. Skip was just cleaning up from some minor repairs to some faulty tricorders when he saw his friend approach. "Hey, did you kill the captain and take over, yet?" 

"Bite your tongue," Apollo said with a smile. "I couldn't do it if I was ordered to." 

"I know what you mean. So, what brings you down here?" 

Apollo got a little uncomfortable. "Well, I figured that I needed someone to talk to, someone I've known for a while." 

Skip smirked. "Hell, I guess that narrows your list down somewhat. My shift just ended, too. Let me finish up and I'll join you." 

The shuttle bay was a perfect place to go. It was deserted and it was quiet. They sat on a shuttle's engine pod while Apollo told Skip everything that had been left out of the grapevine, which was surprisingly more than Apollo expected. All Skip could do in response was shake his head. "I think I can understand what you're going through. I mean, you're not exactly an average guy. You're older than you look, not to mention stronger and faster than anyone I've ever even heard of. And I don't even want to touch what your mind can do?" 

Apollo nodded. "I know. One good thing about my isolation was that I was able to fully discover and hone what I have." He paused, trying to explain it in a way Skip would understand. "You see, my primary power, now that I know what I'm doing, is the ability to sense immediate danger before it happens to me. As a result, I basically have more time to react to it than anyone else. This sense also works for anyone I care about." 

Skip looked thoughtful. "So how does that explain the first time it showed its head?" 

"I was untrained. At that point, I could See any danger that was about to happen to anyone in my immediate area. Now that I've honed it, I can See any potential threat to me. If I open my mind a little more, I can expand the range. So far, I've still been restricted to my immediate area." 

"You said it was your primary power," Skip said. "That implies you can do other things." 

"Well, yes. If I completely let down my guard, or mental shields, I can See the thoughts of people; I can't actually read their minds, but I can pick up what they're thinking on the surface. Of course, this leaves me completely open to attack from one way or another. For instance, in that condition, Vulcans would be able to meld with me without approaching me, even though we know that they're really touch-telepaths." Apollo's look grew impish. "And... I can do this." 

_:I can project my thoughts to someone in the same room as me.:_ Skip heard Apollo's voice, it echoed inside his head, but his lips didn't move. He fell off the pylon in shock when he realized what just happened. "You... you... your voice!" Skip sputtered as he got up off the floor and sat back down, but he was so shaken by what he experienced that he had to feel for the pylon before he sat, or he'd end up on the floor again. "I... I just heard you in my head, I mean I heard you, but you didn't speak! I mean... my God. What the hell did you just do!?" 

"Didn't you hear what I thought to you? I can project my thoughts to someone I want to hear them, as long as they are in the same room as I am." 

"As long as they're in the same room. So does this mean that if you're outside it doesn't work?" 

Skip wound up getting knocked off the engine again. "Silly," Apollo said. "You know what I mean." He abruptly grew serious. "I'm kind of scared by this. I really don't know everything I'm capable of. And what I do know..." He shivered. "It's a big responsibility to make sure I use it for the right reasons, if I use it at all." 

Skip smiled warmly. "You know something?" He clapped Apollo's shoulder. "I don't really think you have anything to worry about. The fact that you're willing to ask yourself that question means that you'll do better than you know." He stood up. "Now come on. Let's get out of here. I'm hungry." He looked around the shuttle bay. "Can you believe that the only things between us and open space are those two big doors? Sometimes it just gives me the creeps." 

Apollo smiled. "So... I guess you're really worried about that open space between those two ears of yours." This time it was Apollo's turn to get knocked off the pylon. 

~ * ~ 

_Captain's Log, Stardate 4813.4:_

_The _Excalibur_ has been investigating a sector of space near the energy barrier at the edge of the galaxy. There have been reports that ships have been disappearing in this sector; I intend to find out the truth behind these reports. I just hope we don't become a statistic ourselves._

Thomas thumbed off his log recorder. Apollo stood behind and to the right of his chair. "What do you make of it?" Thomas asked of his first officer. 

Apollo studied the screen for a while. "Well, sir, it's certainly mysterious enough. I can understand ships wanting to explore it and getting lost." 

Thomas swiveled to face his science officer. "Crane, are you getting any readings?" 

Crane looked up from his viewer. His looks certainly matched his name. He was a wisp of a man, but Apollo had seen him in action, and if anyone personified the term will o' the wisp, it was this man. He had a passion that was unquenchable. "I keep getting readings, as if there's something out there, but then it disappears on me. I really can't get much from here." 

Thomas nodded slowly. He looked to Apollo, who met his gaze. All at once he made a decision. "Helm, change course," he said with finality. "We're going in." 

~ * ~ 

It was the fifth day. On the third, they had lost contact with normal space; now they were just as lost as the ships they were still searching for. 

Apollo couldn't help but notice that the crew started becoming edgy. Tempers were short; what would have been simple disagreement turned into knock down, drag out fights. He had to break up more than one. Even Skip got more frustrated than usual. When it became a week, Apollo avoided Skip all together; he had become too testy. He also found that he had to close down his senses more. They alerted him more and more to danger, to the point where it seemed like he had a constant buzzing in his ears. Even he wasn't immune. More than once, he caught himself snapping unnecessarily at a crewmember. 

On the second week, their helmsman went berserk. "I can't stand this!" He suddenly yelled. "We've been here a week. Why don't we leave?" He whirled around to face the captain. "Why don't you get us out of here?" He started to advance on Thomas. 

Thomas was about to punch the intercom to call Security, but Apollo was a step ahead of him, literally. He moved between Thomas and the helmsman, and did something he had always admired of Vulcans, but was never able to do himself until the Academy. Using his enhanced strength, he delivered a nerve pinch, careful at the same time not to use too much strength and crush his shoulder. The man dropped like a sack of grain. 

Instead of calling Security, he called Sickbay. "Doctor, I have a man up here who just went mad." 

"I'll send someone up to take care of him," came the reply, which, like most of them, sounded ragged and grouchy. 

Apollo turned to Thomas. "That's the fifth case I've seen in two days. Sir, if I didn't know any better, I'd say this barrier is driving people insane." 

Thomas nodded. "I'd have to agree with you. Maybe you could help us. Please take the helm, Mr. Racer." 

Apollo instantly took the chair recently unoccupied. He looked for a reference point, no matter how insignificant, but he couldn't find any. If ordered to turn about 180 degrees, he'd be able to do it, using the instruments as guidance, but the sensors wouldn't display him any different information otherwise. "I'm sorry, sir. I'm afraid I can't do much more than what's already been done." 

Thomas sighed. "Very well, Commander. Steady as she goes." 

~ * ~ 

At the end of his shift, Apollo was walking down the corridor. It was hard for him to focus; in addition to the way this space was affecting him, his senses were buzzing uncontrollably now. It was hard to tell whether or not he was in danger. In fact, Apollo had been starting to get a little paranoid in the past day or so; he was looking around corners before turning them. Every little sound made him suspicious, and it got to the point where he could hardly sleep. 

It was just outside of his quarters where he was attacked. Three men jumped him from different directions. From their rambling, he deduced that they thought he was an enemy spy, and that he led them into this area of space to be ambushed. He tried to resist, but they had gotten to him too quickly. Before he knew it, he was on the ground, being pummeled senseless. One of his arms was damaged in the struggle; upon seeing that it wasn't flesh underneath, the men redoubled their efforts, and Apollo succumbed. 

He was found by a medical crew two hours later, broken, bleeding, and unconscious. The doctor already had too much on his mind; his sickbay was full, and he was starting to see injuries with healthy patients. He put Apollo in a stasis chamber, muttering that he'd get back to him when he had the chance. 

He never got that chance. 


	12. Origins Chapter Twelve

_CHAPTER TWELVE_

_Captain's log, Stardate 7425.7:_

_The _Enterprise_ is performing better than imagined. Since the V'ger incident, Mr. Scott has brought the ship to top-notch condition, 'and a wee bit more if ye ask for it' he would add. Ironically, we are approaching an area of space that we had visited not long after I had first assumed command of this vessel._

Kirk swiveled in his chair. It felt good to sit here again. "Mr. Spock," he called out jovially, "how are the new sensors doing." 

Spock rose an eyebrow. "They are performing as expected, Captain," his tone was matter-of-factly, "as I supervised and assisted the completion of their installation." 

"Why, Spock," Kirk baited, "is that ego I hear from you?" 

As usual, Spock took the bait. "I am a Vulcan. As such, I have no ego. I simply state fact." 

"That's bull and you know it." McCoy said from behind Kirk's chair. "You're also half-human, which means hiding somewhere in that green-blooded head of yours is an ego that's dying for you to head for your quarters so you can sulk about the fact that you were caught taking pleasure in something." 

"Really, doctor, your imagination should be reined in, before it causes you to have serious delusions." As McCoy gaped at that remark, Spock's attention was called to his console. "Captain, I'm picking up an automated distress signal, bearing 217 mark 39." 

Kirk looked concerned; he stood up and moved next to Spock. "That's the direction of the barrier, isn't it?" 

"Correct, captain," Spock continued gazing into his screen. "It appears to be a ship's distress signal." 

Kirk galvanized into action. "Keep on it, Spock. Mr. DiFalco, set a course for that signal. Ahead warp five, Mr. Sulu." 

~ * ~ 

The ship dropped out of warp just before the barrier. Kirk felt a sense of deja vu. It was in this barrier that his best friend, Gary Mitchell, and a science officer, Elizabeth Dehner, had obtained godlike powers that drove them both insane. "Full stop just before we hit the barrier. I don't want to have to go into that thing again." 

"Aye, sir," was Sulu's response. 

"Spock, anything?" 

"Scanning." Spock was silent for a moment. "It appears to be a ship drifting just inside the barrier." His speech was slow as he was concentrating on the readings. "Constitution-class. Her ID registers as... NCC-1705." He looked up. "_USS Excalibur_." 

Kirk faced the screen. "That was Jeff Thomas' ship. He disappeared over a year ago." 

Spock nodded, both eyebrows disappearing into his hair. "We appear to have found him. I'm initiating a full scan." Another moment of silence. "Minimal power readings. Severe internal damage; Captain, the bridge has been exposed to space." Kirk gaped mournfully at the screen while Spock continued. "Unable to tell if there are any life signs from here. If there are, there are not many." 

Kirk stepped toward the screen. "Can we tow it out with our tractor beam." 

"If we still had our previous design, I would say no. However, currently, I daresay it's possible." 

"Do it. I want a look aboard that ship. If they were in there this long, I'd hate to see if anyone was alive." 

Chekov spoke up from the tactical station. "Ve've managed to lock onto it, Keptin. Slowly bringing it out of the barrier." 

On the screen, the ship's lines grew less vague as it left behind the energies of the barrier. Kirk headed toward the turbolift. "Once it clears, I want a landing party waiting for me in the transporter room." The doors slid shut on any response he could have heard. 

~ * ~ 

Four figures shimmered into existence in a corridor on the _Excalibur_ wearing space suits. Wisps and tendrils of the barrier's energy hung close to the floor like a fog. Spock scanned it with his tricorder. "_Captain, I do not recommend that we remain for any significant length of time. The energy residue may still be detrimental to us,_" he said through his suit's communicator 

Kirk nodded acknowledgment, and motioned to everyone. "_Scotty, go to Engineering; find out its condition. Bones, check the sickbay. Spock and I will go to the auxiliary bridge._" They split up and headed in their respective directions. 

As they ran through the corridors, they noticed the desiccated remains of several crewmen. As Kirk saw their old uniforms, he felt a sense of nostalgia. This ship was just like the Enterprise used to be. Now she was improved, and they were on an obsolete ship. If it had made it home, it would have been refitted much like the Enterprise. 

They came to a halt outside the auxiliary bridge doors. Spock trained his tricorder on the doors. "Like the rest of the ship, the atmosphere had been vented out. The doors won't open, and there are no life signs inside." 

Without delay, Kirk opened a panel next to the doors and activated the manual override. The doors slid open. The carnage they witnessed inside was unbearable. Everything that happened a year ago had been preserved due to the lack of an atmosphere. They found Captain Thomas in his chair. His hand was around his science officer's throat; however, his throat was dangling in the science officer's hand. "_Oh... my... God,_" Kirk whispered. Spock merely closed his eyes. Everyone on the bridge had killed either each other or themselves. 

The silence was broken by Scotty's voice coming through the commlink in Kirk's suit. "_Captain, it's a mess down here. It's like a bloody war zone. I dinna need a doctor to tell you that no one is alive. And the engines. Och, the puir bairns_." 

"_I understand, Scotty, meet us as soon as you can._" A beep issued forth as soon as Scotty signed off. 

"_Jim, McCoy here. You'd better get down here. I found something._" 

~ * ~ 

Kirk and Spock came running into Sickbay, Scotty just joining them. "_In here, Jim._" McCoy led them into the emergency section. Along the way, they noticed people in the same conditions as the other areas they had seen. He showed them a stasis chamber. "_This one's still working._" 

Spock raised an eyebrow. "_Fascinating. I wonder why only this one is in use._" 

"_Perhaps the doctor managed to use it before he went insane,_" Kirk offered. 

"_The others were used, all right,_" McCoy said somberly. He pointed further into the room. Kirk and Spock looked in the direction McCoy had indicated. The other stasis chambers were in there, but they were smashed open. One chamber had a large metal rod driven through it, obviously impaling the victim inside. Another chamber looked as though its occupants last remaining moments were of pounding on the inside of the chamber, trying to get out; the door showed numerous bulges, where the patient's blows had dented the door outward, but held. 

Spock scanned each chamber but indicated there were no survivors - until he scanned the last one, the one closest to their position. "_Captain, I'm picking up a life sign inside this chamber._" 

Kirk was puzzled. "_Without an atmosphere?_

"_The stasis chamber once sealed generates its own atmosphere. It prevents contaminating Sickbay,_" the doctor said. "_The chamber works both ways. It also keeps whatever out here... or what's not out here._" 

Kirk looked to McCoy. "_If we can get an atmosphere back in here, do you think you can chance opening it?_" 

"_Sure, if you can restore the atmosphere. Otherwise, we may as well beam this person into space._" 

Kirk smirked. "_I don't think we need to go that far yet._" 

"_I believe I may be able to rectify this._" The Vulcan made his way to a computer panel. "_I shall attempt to tap into the stasis chamber's power supply long enough to restore power to Sickbay._" He fell silent for a moment as he worked. Suddenly, the doors closed and the lights kicked on. "_I have established power and atmosphere is returning. Doctor, are you now able to access your patient?_" 

"_Just a minute._" McCoy looked over the readouts. "_I think so._" He activated the sequence to open it. The chamber opened. A human form was lying there, basking in the blue field of stasis. 

Kirk recognized the man. "_My God, it's Apollo._" 

"_You mean the Lieutenant Commander we saw on Starbase 14 during our shore leave?_" McCoy said, incredulous. 

Kirk recalled that night. Looking stunned, he said, "_Bones, get him out of there._" 

"_I'd like to take him straight to our sickbay._" 

Kirk nodded. "_Get going. We'll see what else we can find._" 

~ * ~ 

Later, they reappeared in the _Enterprise_ transporter room. McCoy was waiting for them. "Jim. You're not going to believe what I found out," he said as the captain removed the helmet of his suit. 

Kirk looked at the doctor. The expression on his face was not good. "Try me," he said soberly. "Anything you have to tell me will be better than what I saw over there." 

They left the transporter room with McCoy explaining as they walked down the corridor. "Jim, that man I brought back has to be the most advanced human being I've ever examined. You know those bionic enhancements listed in his medical records? Well, he doesn't have them anymore." Kirk stopped short, startled at hearing this. But McCoy had more to say. "He's gone through perhaps the most complete and amazing metamorphosis I've ever encountered." 

Kirk's eyes narrowed. "Explain." 

"Well, as far as I can see it, while he spent time in stasis, while in the barrier, its energies somehow changed him. Organic and inorganic components merged together into some kind of new substance. His skeletal structure has completely metamorphosed into a framework more durable and flexible than a normal human being has." 

Spock was intrigued. "Fascinating. Then you are saying that Racer's biological functions have been reinforced by his inorganic parts." 

"Not exactly, Spock. What I'm saying is that he has somehow been changed at the molecular level. When we knew him on the starbase, he could be called a cyborg in every sense of the word." 

Jim nodded. "Part machine, part man. I suppose that's true." 

McCoy was still excited. "Yes, but that's not true anymore. You can't tell where the man begins and the machine ends anymore, because they've been completely integrated with each other. It's incredible. The most advanced science known still hasn't found a way to merge organic and inorganic material so completely." 

They resumed their walk. "How does he feel about these changes?" 

"That's just it. He hasn't regained consciousness yet. I couldn't find any injury on him, but he was kept in stasis for an awful long time." 

"You forget, doctor, who we are talking about. Commander Racer has been in stasis far longer than anyone we know. He is a product of the 21st century." 

Kirk nodded. "This is true. I wonder if that had anything to do with his current condition." 

"Considering he only gained his prosthetic limbs at Starfleet Academy," Spock said, "I would find it unlikely." 

"I was referring to the fact that the comet fragment that was found in his cockpit could have left some residual substance in his body, something that reacted to the barrier's energy." 

Spock mulled it over, then raised an eyebrow. "It could be possible, given the length of time he was exposed to the fragment." 

They entered sickbay and walked up to where Dr. Chapel was tending a patient on the bed. "No response, yet," she said to McCoy. "I wanted to wait until you were here before proceeding with any measures." 

"Well, now that I'm here, go right ahead." 

She took a hypospray off a tray nearby, checked it to ensure that it had the right chemical with the right dosage, then applied it to Apollo's neck. The effect was almost immediate. Apollo groaned and started to come around. He started to sit up when McCoy stopped him. "Easy, Commander. You've been out for a while. Give yourself a chance." 

He tried to open his eyes, but only managed a slit before squeezing them shut again and slapping his hand over his eyes. "Can't see very well. Everything's too bright." 

Kirk offered a little comfort. "Well, you were in stasis for a long time. You probably need a chance to get used to being awake again." He looked to McCoy, who dimmed the lights in Sickbay. 

Despite McCoy's warnings, Apollo managed to slowly sit up and swing his legs over the side. He winced, squeezing his eyes shut. "Oh, God, my head's swimming. How long was I out this time? Couldn't have been long, since you're still around." 

They were a little confused until Spock spoke up. "You were in stasis for 1.7 years, Commander." 

Apollo groaned again. "Figures. Somehow I knew when I woke up that I was asleep for more than just a few months." This time he managed to open his eyes. The room was filled with a diffuse blue light. "I take it this is the _Enterprise_. I recognize some of the refit work from what I had read; they did a good job." Silence answered back to him. He looked from face to face but the only expression he could get from them was a blank stare, with him as the focus; Spock was the exception. Instead of his mouth going agape like everyone else's, his left eyebrow buried itself in his hairline. "What? What's wrong?" He was starting to get jumpy. "Will someone... _please_... tell me what's wrong." 

McCoy simply beckoned to Dr. Chapel, without taking his eyes off of Apollo. "Chris, I think you'd better show Commander Racer a mirror. He'd be better off seeing this for himself than to have one of us try to explain it." 

Chapel took Apollo's hand and led him halfway across the sickbay before he realized that she was leading him as though he were blind. He shook his hand from her, emphasizing that he could see, but he still followed her to the mirror. "What are you people trying to show..." His voice trailed off as he saw what they did. 

Every feature of his face had somehow changed. In fact, he could sense all kinds of subtle changes all through his body. But the most pronounced change were his eyes. Or seemingly, the lack of them. What was there in place of his eyes were... well... blue was all he could think of. There were no pupils, no irises, not even any whites for that matter. Just... blue. And glowing. As brilliant and pure as any shade of blue could ever have been. Thoughts raced at light speed through his mind, trying to think of an answer for it. But all that would escape his mouth was, "Fascinating." 

~ * ~ 

After several more tests, McCoy had no choice but to label Apollo with a clean bill of health. The main thing he was worried about was Apollo's state of mind, as it was proven that prolonged exposure to the barrier's energies drove a person violently and murderously insane. But the commander assured him that he was fine in that aspect. In fact, thinking about it, he felt better than he did before entering the barrier. Even his stress from his past ship assignments were but a vague memory. With nothing to hold him in sickbay, McCoy released him. 

Walking through the corridors of the Enterprise, he couldn't help but feel the eyes of the crewman follow him; he didn't know if it was because of the uniform - he was still in the gold tunic and black pants, while everyone apparently was wearing a glorified version of grayish-blue or beige sleeper pajamas - or if it was his strange new appearance. Somehow, he was infused with... what. _What have I become?_ Apollo shifted that thought over and over in his mind. 

One thing that definitely changed was his body. McCoy had told him what happened to his enhancements. He raised his arm; it felt lighter than before, but normal, and he could still sense the strength he possessed. He tried disconnecting it, but it was like a normal arm. He then touched the wall of the corridor, and discovered something wonderful. Before, his limbs simply gave him sensory input; if he were holding a hot coal, his hand would simply register that he had a small, rough object at a specific temperature. Now, he could actually feel the wall beneath his fingertips. He wondered if his other abilities were still in place. If the deck was deserted, he could test his speed. _The next best thing_, he realized,_ would be the gym_. 

He entered the room. It was unoccupied. Apollo stood there for a moment; then he grinned mischieviously, and started to run. 

~ * ~ 

Kirk was getting off his shift. He walked through the corridors, eager to start his daily workout. He entered the gym and felt a breeze. _Did someone turn the recirculators on high,_ he wondered. He caught movement on the far wall, then as he entered, he noticed that something was traveling on the wall, moving extremely fast. Before he could respond, the figure came down the far wall and stopped on a dime just four feet in front of him. "Good afternoon, Captain." 

Kirk stared at those glowing blue eyes. "What the devil's name were you doing, Commander?" he said, easily masking his emotions. He didn't hang around Spock all this time and not learn anything. 

Apollo looked a bit sheepish. "I... wanted to check to see if I still had the same abilities that I had before." 

Kirk let the astonishment show this time. "You were able to do this before!?" 

Apollo nodded. "I was after I fixed my enhancements." 

Kirk didn't know what to say to that. "Yes... well... just don't hurt anyone." He clapped Apollo on the shoulder as the commander started to leave. "Oh, and one other thing. You might want to consider updating your uniform. I don't think people will take you too seriously with that on." He grinned at Apollo, who returned the smile and left Kirk to his workout. 

~ * ~ 

He woke to a beeping in his ear. "_Bridge to Commander Racer._" 

Was he back on the _Excalibur_ somehow? _No, that's not right. That ship is just a derelict, left where the Enterprise had found it while a science vessel had been dispatched to assess its condition. Besides, the communications officer on the _Excalibur_ was a man, not a woman_. Apollo shook his head and touched the pad. "Racer here," he said groggily. 

"_Sorry to wake you, Commander, but we had to deviate from our course. We were called to a crisis on Arcadia. Hope you don't mind._" Uhura's voice was edged with sarcasm. 

"'S'okay." he said, still half-asleep. He cut the link, and sat up. The room wasn't completely dark; there was a fuzzy blue glow everywhere he looked. _I'm going to have to get used to the fact that I'm now my own permanent night light_, he thought with a smirk as he roused himself. The lights came on automatically upon his movement, drowning out the glow. He got dressed into a more comtemporary, bluish-gray uniform and, upon having nothing better to do, headed for the bridge. 

When Apollo got there, he looked around, instantly impressed by the new bridge design. By the sight on the main viewscreen, they had already settled into orbit around Arcadia. Kirk heard the doors open and close and turned to greet him. "Greetings, Commander. Welcome to Arcadia." 

"Thanks. May I ask what brought us here, Captain?" 

Kirk started to speak, but Spock gave him his answer. "Arcadia is one of twelve planets in this system, of which only three others support life. Their government recently joined the Federation, and certain factions are not pleased with the fact. An uprising has just occurred, and we are responding to a request for help." 

McCoy entered the bridge at that point and came up to Kirk. "Well, Jim, sickbay's prepared. Just don't draw this out too long." He looked toward Apollo. "Glad to see you're up and around, Commander." 

"Draw what out?" Apollo asked of Kirk. 

Kirk stood up. "We're about to send a landing party down to the capital, try and diffuse the situation. Mr. Chekov, contact Security, have them send a couple of men to Transporter room 2. Mr. Spock, Bones, you're with me." 

As Kirk moved around him, Apollo spoke up. "Sir, permission to accompany you." Kirk studied Apollo while thinking about the request. Apollo pushed a little further. "I was security chief on the _Monitor_, and I think I could be of some use." 

Kirk gave him a little grin. "All right, let's go." 

~ * ~ 

The landing party materialized on the planet's surface, dressed in their dark beige field jackets. They were met by a delegation of five Arcadians. The Arcadians were reptilian in nature, with gray skin, bulbous heads, and beaks like that of a snapping turtle. "You are the Ssstarfleet?" one of them asks, fear showing clearly in its eyes. 

Kirk stepped forward. "I'm Captain James T. Kirk of the starship _Enterprise_. These are my officers..." 

He was interrupted by the Arcadian. "Yesss, yesss. Introductionsss later. We mussst hurry." 

Kirk looked at him, hesitating. They stayed there long enough to see the top of a boulder next to them get vaporized. Apollo quickly fell back on his security training, helping the other security men herd everyone into a nearby cave. 

The Arcadians stopped to check on their guests. "Quickly, quickly. We are not sssafe yet." 

They continued into the cave. When it got too dark (except for the blue glow), the security men pulled out flashlights. Finally, they reached what appeared to be a central chamber. More Arcadians were there. The one leading Kirk's group ran over to one of the creatures in the other group. "Bartozz, Bartozz! The Ssstarfleet are here!" 

The one named Bartozz ambled over to the group. While their clothes looked utilitarian, his was obviously marked for authority. He looked into the faces of each landing party member, stopping at Apollo. He pointed to the human. "I cannot trusst thisss one." 

This startled Apollo, wondering how this creature could come to such a conclusion. Kirk stepped forward. "I don't understand. You asked for our help. How could you not trust..." 

"I cannot see into this one'sss eyesss." He spoke to Kirk, but he didn't take his eyes off of Apollo. His people started watching the commander just as warily. "With our people, we judge by what we sssee in another'sss eyesss. That way we can tell if he isss being truthful. But thisss one," he pointed to Apollo, "thisss one'sss eyesss glow with a demonic fire. We are unable to tell if we can trussst him." 

Apollo wanted to say something, but Kirk waved him off. "I can assure you, Bartozz, that Commander Racer is a respected member of our group, and under my orders. He will do nothing unless I wish him to." 

Bartozz thought about that. "Ssso you are sssaying that if we can trussst you, then we can trussst him." 

Kirk held out his hands in emphasis. "Implicitly," he said, almost pleading. 

Bartozz once again looked into Apollo's face. Apollo smiled, thinking it would make things easier. It seemed to do the trick. "We will trussst thisss one, then," he said, nodding. "But for hisss actionsss, you are resssponsssible." 

"I understand completely," Kirk said, exchanging looks with Apollo. Everyone seemed to let out their breath in relief. 

They followed Bartozz to where he had been standing. Upon a closer look, the officers realized that the group had been studying a map on a crude stone table. "The Vertadsss have been moving sssteadily forward. They will not ssstop until they have achieved their goal." 

"And what goal would that be?" Spock asked. 

"Asss far asss we know, they wish to take over our planet. They come from Verta, the ssseventh body in our plane. Already they have taken the fifth body. We are next." He sighed. "We had thought at firssst that if they sssaw another shell around our body, they would leave usss alone." 

One of the security men was obviously confused. "Excuse me, sirs. Bodies? Planes? Shells? What does he mean?" 

McCoy shook his head and grinned. He blurted out, "Leave it to Security intelligence to get easily confused." He then realized that Apollo was a security chief on another ship, and that he was glaring at him. "No offense, Commander." 

Apollo slowly nodded. "The bodies he talks about are planets. Their plane must be this system. Which means they must see our ship as a shell which carries us from place to place." 

"Very astute, Commander," Spock said with approval, while the guard who spoke nodded with understanding. 

Kirk clenched his teeth. "Well, it unfortunately seems as if just seeing our ship in orbit isn't enough to make these Vertads run." He turned to Bartozz. "Now that we're here, what would you have us do?" 

Bartozz's fists clenched. "You must dessstroy the invadersss!" He said with conviction. "They mussst be ssstopped at all cossstsss!" He pounded his fists on the table. 

The ceiling chose that moment to explode and cave in. As it was a high ceiling, everyone had a chance to find cover before debris hit the ground; but it provided excellent cover for the Vertads to enter on jet packs, firing on their way. 

Instantly, the landing party had their phasers out. "Be careful when firing!" Kirk yelled over the noise. "We don't want to hit someone too high up! We'd knock them out with a stun setting, but the fall will kill them!" Everybody acknowledged his directions. 

Unfortunately, the Vertads had no such restrictions. They fired freely, and judging by how rocks were blowing apart, Apollo guessed that their weapons weren't exactly on stun. What they had on their side was the fact that in order for the Vertads to hit anyone with accuracy, they had to swoop down; this left them open to a stun blast, where a short fall would do nothing more than just rough them up a little more. 

Apollo took in everything that was happening. They were pinned down under outcroppings that were thick enough to somehow put up with their shots. Then he noticed that when the Vertads were hit and fell, the Arcadians would fall upon their adversary, kicking and clubbing them with anything at hand. "Stop that!" he yelled. In a flash, he was on them, pulling them away from the unconscious beings. "You're acting no better than they are!" 

"Racer, get back under cover!" Kirk yelled from his position, Spock was there covering him. 

There were two Vertads left in the air. One of them drew a bead on where Kirk's voice came from; they shot accurately, hitting the rock over Kirk's head. It collapsed on top of the captain and first officer. 

"NO!" Apollo saw what happened, then looked up to the person who fired. _This business has to stop now,_ he thought. He jumped up and grabbed the Vertad's ankle. "No more!" He punched the Vertad's jet pack, wrecking it; then he turned his phaser on the other one, stunning him to the ground. 

The shooting ended, and the noise died down. As the dust settled, Kirk and Spock crawled out of their collapsed hiding place; fortunately, it had fallen in a way where its own length protected them from harm. McCoy jumped out and rushed over to one of the security men, who was injured in the firefight. He stabilized his patient and turned to inform Kirk that he would be all right. Kirk and Spock were still staring up toward the ceiling. Wondering what piqued their curiosity so much after a battle, he looked up too, and found himself staring as well. 

Up in the air, close to the hole in the ceiling, Apollo was holding on to a Vertad. It took McCoy a minute to realize that since there was no noise, then it meant that the creature's jet pack wasn't functioning. That meant that Apollo wasn't holding on to the Vertad, he was simply holding the Vertad. 

So who was holding on to Apollo? 

Kirk was quick to rein in his astonishment. "Ah, Commander, you can come down now." 

Apollo did as he was told, easing down to the ground. But as he reached the surface, he yanked the Vertad up and shoved him against a rock face. The being's feet were dangling a foot off the ground. Kirk moved to restrain Apollo, but McCoy held him back. Kirk figured if Bones had a good reason for stopping him, then he'd go along with it. 

Meanwhile, the Vertad was visibly shaking. Apollo's eyes were bright with his anger, brighter than his fellow officers had seen before. "Now, you misbegotten piece of flotsam." Apollo's voice was quiet, but it oozed with venom. "You will go to your superiors. You will tell them to return to their homeworld and stop bothering these people. Or I personally will return and kick your scrawny little butts out of the galaxy. Is that clear?" 

The Vertad evidently had some defiance left in it. "And suppose we refuse." 

It was only supposed to be a show. Apollo was going to point his phaser and demonstrate its power, but his mind had other plans. As he searched for a suitable target and spotted the outcropping that Kirk and Spock were almost trapped under, twin cobalt beams shot from his eyes, completely vaporizing the rock in a shower of dust. The Vertad must have gotten the message. Convinced that he was being held by a demon, he began convulsing with fear, and he excreted all over himself. Disgusted, Apollo threw him to the ground. "Let him go. He has a message to deliver." He had a feeling that the terrorist wasn't going anywhere for a while. Apollo walked up to the captain and waited. 

Kirk didn't know what to say, let alone what to think. He looked toward Bartozz. 

The Arcadian was also afraid of what just took place; he had enough of his act together to speak, but his eyes never left Apollo. "We... we can now control thisss matter from now on. Th-thank you, Commander." 

Receiving his confirmation, Kirk opened his communicator. "Kirk to _Enterprise_." 

"_Scott here. Captain, are ye all right? We just read phaser fire, followed by a massive energy discharge_." 

Kirk never took his eyes off Apollo. "The situation's under control. The Arcadians have their planet back. Six to beam up. And make sure a medical team is standing by. We have an injured person." He closed his communicator. Before the transporter yanked them away, he said to Bartozz, "May your rule be prosperous from here on." 

As the beams took them away, they heard the Arcadian ruler say, "It will. I can trussst that. It will." 

~ * ~ 

As soon as they coalesced on the transporter pads, Kirk turned on Apollo. "What the hell did you do down there, mister?" 

Apollo, still trying to sort it out himself, adopted a Vulcan demeanor. "I'm sorry if I acted out of line down there, sir. But I did resolve the situation." 

Kirk was shocked. "'Resolved the situation?' Is that all you have to say? You took off like a god-damned bird, grabbed a terrorist, brought him down, and literally scared the shit out of him by shooting a boulder to pieces by just glaring at it!" He paced through the short room for a moment. "What kind of a person did you become in that barrier, anyway?" 

Apollo thought about it as hard as he could. Finally, he answered, "I honestly don't know, sir." 

Once again caught speechless, Kirk stormed out of the room. McCoy and Spock stared after their friend, then looked at Apollo. Spock simply said, "Fascinating." Then they both walked out after Kirk, leaving Apollo alone with Lieutenant Rand, the technician at the time. 

Apollo stood there for a moment. He then glared at Rand and spat, "What are you looking at?" He then walked out of the room at a brisk pace, leaving Rand to sit there and wonder just what the hell had just happened. 

~ * ~ 

The arboretum was a fascinating place. It's where crew members bring species of plants from worlds all over the Federation, ones that are compatible, in any case. The atmosphere was balanced enough to support them all. But all along one wall, huge transparent aluminum windows let in the spectacular view of space outside the ship. 

Apollo stood in front of one of these windows now. They were supposed to be made to minimize reflection as much as possible; however, Apollo saw his eyes in the face of the window, a constant reminder to what he just did today, of what he became. 

He never heard the doors open or close, but he sensed someone standing behind him. "Am I intruding?" 

He turned to face the source of the voice, and bit off a retort. It wouldn't have affected this man, anyway. "No, no you're not intruding." He left it at that. 

Spock stood at his side, facing him, his expression asking a silent question. It seemed as if this man never needed to say anything. He could probably get you to talk just by looking at you the right way. Apollo thought that in that way, Spock was just like his father. 

Apollo stood there until he couldn't take the silence anymore. "Are you going to tell me that what I did down there was wrong?" 

Spock shook his head. "The mission was a success. The Vertads had returned to their planet without any more bloodshed, and the Arcadians had been given an example of the benefits of their newfound membership with the Federation. I would say that your demonstration, while somewhat... emotional, was quite effective." He paused. "Is there some reason you would wish me to tell you that what you did was wrong?" 

Apollo moved away, pacing along the stone walkway that wound its way through the room. He shrugged, slowly returning to his spot. "Yes... no... hell, I don't know. Spock, you saw what I did. What do you think? Of all the species you've met in your career, have you ever seen one who could just look at a boulder and vaporize it?" He didn't wait for Spock's answer. "I felt so much power through that blast. You heard Mr. Scott yourself. He said the _Enterprise_ registered a massive power discharge. The _Enterprise_!" 

"They also registered the phaser fire in the area as well," the Vulcan said calmly. "The _Enterprise_ carries highly sensitive instruments." 

"Yes, but he also said it was much more powerful than phasers. And let me tell you something." He walked right up to Spock, standing as close as he possibly could without violating his personal space. At such a close range, the Vulcan should have been able to pick up surface emotions from Apollo. He could not; instead, he felt a very strong set of shields in place. That alone told him that this man was afraid. But of what? 

Apollo gave him his answer. "What if I told you that I didn't even use full power? I just wanted to demonstrate what I could do. I didn't want to rip the planet apart, I just wanted a tiny amount to show; I was emphatically pulling my punch. But look what even that little bit did?" 

Spock analyzed the situation in his head. "How did you know that you could perform such an action?" 

Apollo let silence add tension. He began pacing. "That's just it. Right up until that moment, I didn't even know I could do it. Then, when I was holding that Vertad, I remembered back at the Academy. When I would get mad at someone or something, my friends would say to me, 'You know, Racer, if looks could kill, he'd be wiped out by now.' So I thought, why not? What if I can do it?" He paced a little more. "Well, in that very instant before I did it, somehow... somehow... I just knew I could. I never realized I would be that effective." 

The only movement Spock had been making this whole time was to turn his head to follow Apollo around the arboretum. He never let anything disrupt his calm. "It seems as though you have a decision to make." 

"You're damn right I have a decision to make." He finally got tired of pacing and sat down at a nearby bench. "The question is, what type of decision does it have to be?" He buried his face in his hands. 

The doors opened and closed again. "Somehow I knew that I'd find you here." It was Kirk's voice, but with his face hidden, he couldn't tell if the captain were speaking to him or to Spock. 

"I believe Mr. Racer is having trouble accepting what he did on the planet's surface." Spock offered. 

"Spock, trust me, _I'm_ having a hard time believing what just happened. In fact, I came seeking Racer because I need to do a report of what happened." Apollo lifted his head to see Kirk turn toward him. McCoy had accompanied him. "Should I tell Starfleet what really went on?" 

Apollo was a little puzzled. "You can't lie to Starfleet, Captain." 

"Why not?" McCoy chimed in. "He's done it dozens of times." 

Kirk fixed his CMO with a glare. "What I meant," he started turning back to Apollo, "was whether I should specifically mention the actions you took down there. I'm concerned that this development may not be very beneficial to your career." 

Spock spoke for him again. "Mr. Racer has informed me of something even more potentially disturbing. It seems that however powerful Commander Racer's... 'demonstration' was down on Arcadia, it was not the full extent of his power." 

McCoy's eyes grew wide. "Good God, man! You vaporized a boulder four times our size to dust by just blinking at it! Now you're saying you can do _more!?_" 

Apollo slid his hands slowly down his face. "Now you see my dilemma, Doctor." He stood up. "I have enough power to do God-knows-what. One principle I believe in very strongly... is that with power comes responsibility." 

"They also say that power corrupts, but absolute power corrupts absolutely," Kirk said. "What I'd like to know, and I'm sure the thought has also occurred to you, is if your sense of duty and responsibility will be able to override the possibility of corruption." He thought of his friend, Gary Mitchell, who had the same problem but wasn't responsible enough toi keep corruption from blackening his soul. 

The thought was so strong that Apollo couldn't help but pick it up. "Who is Gary?" he said. All their heads shot up in astonishment. 

"How did you..." McCoy sputtered. 

"Fascinating," Spock stated. 

"You read my mind," Kirk said simply, quietly. Dangerously. He stepped closer to Apollo, anger burning in his eyes. He was about to say something or do something, but he stopped himself. The shock and the horror on Apollo's face was double their own. 

"Honestly, I didn't mean to. I'm sorry. It's just that when surface thoughts are that strong, they're pretty much projected outward. I can't help picking them up." 

Spock put a hand on Kirk's shoulder. "He is right, Jim. When you are in an emotional state, you tend to... broadcast... very strongly." This was an indirect way of telling him that he, too, picked up Kirk's thought about his friend, and has no doubt done so before. 

Kirk looked over his shoulder at Spock. The Vulcan had an expression of understanding on his face. He sat down beside Apollo and proceeded to tell him of the first time they encountered the barrier. He told the commander of Gary Mitchell, the friend he was to Kirk, and how he had been subject to the barrier's powers as Apollo had. Kirk's voice grew somber when he reached the part in which he had to kill his friend to keep him from going completely over the edge. 

Apollo remained silent for a few minutes. He got up and paced, then he faced the window. Finally, when his thoughts were collected, he turned back toward Kirk. "So your fear is that I'll wind up like him; I'll go insane from this power, and you'll have to stop me before I go too far." 

Kirk hesitated. "The thought had crossed my mind." 

Apollo solemnly nodded. "Do you think it will come to that? Am I really going to become a threat to this ship, this crew, hell, to Starfleet and the Federation?" 

McCoy grinned in a fatherly manner. "Well, I think you just answered your own question." 

Apollo cocked his head. "How so?" 

"Well, just by asking those questions, to us and to yourself, you've proven that you've got a pretty good head on those shoulders." 

Spock inclined his head. "For once, I would tend to agree with Dr. McCoy. You have proven yourself worthy of such a responsibility just by your concern for what could happen. You recognize the danger, and as such you can be prepared to deal with it." He paused. "You have been bestowed with some remarkable and fascinating abilities. How you use those abilities is entirely up to you, but I am confident that you will use them wisely, and with as much restraint as you deem necessary." 

Kirk smiled. He couldn't have said it better. "You seem to have a good sense of duty and honor... that alone should be good enough to keep you in check. I think you'll do just fine. Just go with your gut feeling." He winked, then grew serious. "Thank you." 

"For what?" Apollo asked. 

"I have to admit, after what I saw down there, I had my doubts. For a while, I thought you were going to turn out like Gary. But you've proven those doubts groundless. I can feel confident that you can handle yourself, and your powers, responsibly." 

Apollo felt as though his faith in himself was restored. "Thank you, sir. You don't know how much it means to me to hear you say that. I promise I won't let you, or the Federation, down." He stood up. "But while I'm thinking about it, do you think you could only give Starfleet the bare bones? You know, 'Went to Arcadia. Talked to inhabitants. Situation resolved.'" 

"That might be stretching it a bit, but I'll see what I can do." He got to his feet and the foursome left the arboretum. 


	13. Origins Chapter Thirteen

_CHAPTER THIRTEEN_

_"Bridge crew to the bridge. Bridge crew to the bridge."_

Apollo looked up as he heard Uhura's voice over the PA system. He then looked across at his 3-D chess opponent. 

"It appears that we are needed," Spock said from behind the board. 

"Quite right." Apollo replied in the same tone. His mouth quirked up at the Vulcan's upraised eyebrow, then he stood up and took one last look at the board. He reached out and moved a piece. "Checkmate," he said, and headed for the door. 

Spock intensely studied the board. "Fascinating. You should not have been able to do that in the position I left you in. It was illogical." He stood up. 

Apollo said over his shoulder. "I cheated." He waited a heartbeat, then added, "I'm kidding. I just simply moved in a way that logic would have never seen." 

Spock raised an eyebrow. "Intriguing. It proves what I had discovered a few months ago; there is more to existence than pure logic." 

"You bet your pajamas there is," he said, smiling at his chess partner. 

While Spock was trying to figure that one out, the turbolift doors opened onto the bridge. A view of Earth slowly grew in front of them. Kirk greeted them. "Welcome home, gentlemen. Yourself excluded, Mr. Spock." 

"I am half-human, Captain," Spock corrected. "Earth is as much my home as Vulcan." 

It wasn't until Apollo stepped onto the bridge that he realized that McCoy was with them. These three always seemed to collect at one point or another. He looked at the captain. "Well, Captain, it's been a while." 

Kirk smiled at the blue orb on the screen. "Yes, it certainly has." 

Apollo returned the smile. "Admiral Komack was always keeping a sharp eye on what I was doing. I wonder what he'll say now." 

"Probably not much of anything. He's not an admiral anymore." He saw Apollo's startled expression. "He retired two years ago. Admiral Nogura took his place." 

Apollo nodded. "I heard about him while I was in the Academy. He was still a vice admiral, wasn't he." At Kirk's nod, he continued. "I heard he was strictly a no-bullshit person." 

McCoy smiled wickedly. "I dare you to say that to his face." 

"Careful, Bones... he may just take you up on that dare. Let's just say he'd be more suspicious of his talents," Kirk said. 

Uhura spoke up. "Captain, Admiral Nogura is hailing you." 

"Speak of the devil," McCoy said. 

Kirk glared at McCoy to hush, then turned to Uhura. "Put him on screen." 

The view switched from a view of Earth to an elderly oriental man in a Starfleet admiral's uniform. 

"_Greetings, Captain Kirk. Welcome home._" 

"Always a pleasure to be able to return, sir." 

"_I understand you have an extra crew member with you._" 

Apollo stepped into view. "Hello, sir. Commander Racer here." 

"_Ah, Commander. It is fortunate to have you with us again. I'm sorry about your ship, it is with great sorrow that none of your comrades could make it_." 

Apollo nodded solemnly. "I understand, sir. Would it be proper for me to know what is to become of that ship?" 

Nogura looked down at his desk. "_I'm sorry, Commander. The damage to that ship was considerable... her crew all but scuttled her in their insanity. I'm afraid we had no choice but to finish the job. If it eases your conscience any, we disposed of her in a manner that reflected our respect of her crew_." 

Apollo bowed slightly. "Thank you, sir." 

"_As for you, we would like to see you at your earliest convenience. I'm afraid there's a matter of accountability to undergo. Whenever a ship is lost, the senior officer of the survivors must report to a court martial hearing in order for us to determine the liability for that loss. It's only a formality... I don't think you should worry about the outcome_." 

"I understand. I have but one request." 

Nogura nodded. "_Name it_." 

"I need to contact the wife of the chief engineer aboard the _Excalibur_. He... he was a friend, sir." 

"_I understand completely. I'll have them give you the coordinates. You can go there when you have finished at Starfleet Headquarters_." 

"Thank you, sir," Apollo said with gratification. 

"_And Captain Kirk_," Nogura continued. 

"Yes, sir." 

"_I would like to have a little talk with you concerning our little 'chat' before you went off to confront V'ger_." 

Kirk looked from Spock to McCoy, and back to the screen. "I understand completely." 

"_Nogura out_." The view was once again replaced by the Earth. 

Apollo turned to Kirk, a puzzled look on his face. "Captain? Why do I get the feeling that you're in trouble for something?" 

~ * ~ 

_Things have changed._ This was Apollo's first thought as he walked through San Francisco. He thought buildings couldn't get more streamlined than when he had left. They had. The older buildings were still there, but it seemed that they added a few new ones, and the differences in architecture was unbelievable. 

He was not very happy today. He had just returned from the hearing regarding the loss of the _Excalibur_. As he was the only survivor, it was obvious that he was the ranking officer, so he had no choice but to "participate". Kirk had accompanied him; it was good that he did. The inquiry board didn't take losing a _Constitution_-class starship seriously. Then, after calming down Apollo - he was emphatically voicing that he was unconscious at the time and therefore quite unable to affect matters - Kirk told the board what he had witnessed when the _Enterprise_ discovered the _Excalibur_. The board stated that they merely wanted to listen to Apollo's side of the story, and that was all. 

That was exactly what happened. The brass had listened to his story, and calmly told Apollo that the fault was not his, and that he may be "officially" reinstated to duty. Apparently, his time aboard the _Enterprise_ didn't count, otherwise he probably would have seen another promotion, or at least, a medal. Apollo shook his head. It didn't seem to make much sense to him that Starfleet would reward him in the light of tragedy. As it was, during his testimony, he had to recall the events he witnessed before he was so abruptly robbed of his awareness. Then to top it all off, he was questioned repeatedly about his condition; he couldn't necessarily hide something as obvious as his glowing eyes. He gave a very brief description of his changes, leaving out a great deal of information for fear he would be hounded by scientists for the rest of his life. But he did mention the obvious changes, such as his eyes and the fact that his organic and inorganic parts had melded together. Nogura merely nodded, as though he knew Apollo was purposely abbreviating things, but he made no mention of it, and dismissed him. 

Now, with the easy part of the day behind him, he went to face the hard part of the day, possibly the hardest day of his life. He looked at the padd in his hand to confirm that he was going in the right direction. He then entered a civilian housing complex. Finding the appropriate door number, he reached for the touchplate that signaled the occupant; Apollo had always thought of it as a "fancy doorbell". 

The door opened, revealing a familiar face. Karen was holding a small child in her arms. She was smiling, but it diminished a little, showing that she was a little puzzled. "Hello? May I help you?" Her puzzled look turned into a broad smile as recognition set in. "Apollo? Is that you? My God, it is! What happened to you?" She paused to let the image of the person in front of her sink in. "Well, come in, come in!" 

Apollo walked inside and closed the door behind him. "Let me go put Ethan down," she said, disappearing. She came back alone and they hugged each other. "So, how have you been doing? Where's Skip? The last I had heard from him, you were on his ship. I had expected the two of you to show up together." 

As she talked, Apollo realized that she wasn't told of what happened. Starfleet expected him to relieve them of that burden. The very thought of it only served to reinforce his sorrow. 

She stopped talking. There was no longer a discernible "look" in his eyes, but his facial expression was more than adequate to show his emotions. "Apollo, what's wrong..." She trailed off. Even as she said it, she understood why he was here, why he didn't share her joy at seeing her. Apollo didn't have to say a word, yet she knew. The tears started welling up in her eyes. She moved forward expecting Apollo to catch her. He didn't disappoint her. He guided her close, and she let it out. The child in the other room joined her shortly afterward. As Apollo stood there, tears that had been held back for weeks now flowed freely, and he made no effort to stop them. 

They spent a few moments crying, a little longer for them to get Ethan to sleep again. Then they sat down, and after a deep breath, Apollo told her, in a quiet, calm, clear voice, everything that happened: the trip into the barrier, his removal from the game and subsequent revival, the records he viewed of the hulk of what used to be the _Excalibur_. He gracefully refrained from going into too much detail, but it was enough to start her crying again. He thought with anger that even with all these newfound abilities, he was still unable to bring her husband back. He composed his face to reflect nothing but grief, but inside he was seething with anger. 

~ * ~ 

Apollo stayed with Karen for the rest of the day, trying to bolster her spirits. But by the end of that day, he felt emotionally exhausted, and that he somehow failed to help Karen in any way. He headed for the local bar, which was a hangout for most off duty Starfleet officers. He sat hunched over a nearly empty glass of Saurian Brandy, suddenly getting a sense of deja vu. It was in exactly this position, though light years away, that Captain Kirk happened upon him in this condition. There were subtle differences, though. Now he could see his eyes dully reflected in the glass. He also wasn't affected by alcohol now, and he silently, but half-seriously, cursed his change because of it. What he wanted right now was to desensitize his senses to recent events. Apparently it just wasn't to be. 

The seat next to him was suddenly occupied. Since he observed that most people tended to avoid him tonight, this one wanted his attention. He slowly turned, half expecting it to be Kirk. 

"Well... this is a far cry from the cadet I used to know." A familiar face smiled warmly at him. 

Apollo's face brightened a little. "Admiral Komack. What a surprise. I didn't expect to see you." 

Komack waved him off. "No, no... none of that 'admiral' bull. Gives me a bad aftertaste. I'm retired now, so it's just plain Phil." 

"Okay... Phil then." Despite his mood, Apollo smiled. 

"My God, the changes in you since we last met. I mean, with some people, the changes are subtle; you see them a little more mature than before, a few more wrinkles, a little more gray hair, or a little less hair if you know what I mean." They both chuckled as Komack ran his hand through his receding hairline. "But you. My God, you certainly went all out, didn't you? What the hell did you do to your eyes?" 

Apollo shrugged. "I guess you could say... I was a victim of circumstance." 

He nodded. "I remember hearing about the _Excalibur_. A shame, actually. She was a fine ship. They all were." Komack paused, lost in memory. "You know... the _Enterprise_ was the only _Constitution_-class ship to return from her five-year mission? I don't know if that meant that our ships really weren't up to snuff, or if space is a lot meaner than we expected it to be." 

Apollo suddenly had a dreadful feeling. _I hope Sam had moved on before the _Lexington_ became just another statistic_. Despite the thought, he gave Komack a little smile. "No, Phil, our ships were more than up to snuff. And I wouldn't necessarily say that space is mean. Granted, it's a tough time out there, but I think more often than not, we hit a lot of unexpected surprises; some were good, it allowed us to expand the Federation with new races, but it was the bad ones that got us." He shook his head. "That's the price we pay for determined exploration. We know that what's out there is largely unknown, but our spirit compels us to go out there; our curiosity demands it of us." 

Komack stared at Apollo for a while. "You've been hanging around Jim Kirk too long, with those grandiose speeches." They laughed, breaking the mood. "But you're right, essentially. That's why the Federation exists. People willing to reach out, and people who need to be reached." 

Apollo quickly grew somber. "Sometimes reaching out doesn't accomplish much." 

"Uh, oh. I hit a nerve somewhere. Care to tell me what it's about?" 

Apollo sighed. "I just came back from a friend's place. I had to tell her that her husband had died on my ship. The experience was... unpleasant." He drained his glass, then ordered two more. "I don't know. I came away from there thinking that I didn't help her at all. She has a two-year-old child, and I had to tell her that his father won't ever have the chance of seeing him. I felt like a hole opened in the bottom of my gut, and my soul just drained out." 

Komack simply nodded. "Ah, yes. You will hear many starship captains say that it is the hardest part of their duty, telling next of kin of their lost loved ones. I have to disagree. It's relatively easy to work up the nerve to tell them. What I find really hard," he took a drink, "is having to deal with it afterward." He put his hand on Apollo's shoulder. "Take it from me, though. The very same drive that compels us to get out there and explore, also allows us to get over our grief. It's the way we move on with our lives. We accomplish something, then we keep going." 

"Except Skip won't be going on, except in our memories." Apollo expected to feel bitter by that statement, but the truth of it hit him, and he felt strangely relieved. "I understand." 

Komack smiled. "I'm glad you see the wisdom in it. Now," he raised his glass, "instead of brooding about the ones we left behind, let's celebrate the ones who made it back safely." 

Apollo smiled wistfully as he his raised his own glass and they clinked them together. 

~ * ~ 

He returned to Starfleet Headquarters the next day to receive his orders. He was assigned to the science vessel _USS Oberth_. This was a new class of ship, and Apollo frankly found the design quite weird. The ship's nacelles were integrated with the primary hull; they were smaller and of a different design than what he was used to. The nacelle pylons were reinforced, and doubled as the connecting dorsals to the elongated secondary hull. Apollo walked onto the bridge, expecting to meet the captain. 

When Apollo was given his new assignment, he noticed that Starfleet sported new uniforms. Instead of the pajamas they had to wear, this crew was dressed in a turtleneck with the color denoting their department, and a stylish red jacket with black trim. Rank was shown as an insignia pinned on a white strip of material on the right shoulder, and on the left sleeve above another white stripe, on which were pins that denoted years of service. The jacket was fastened by a flap pinned down by a clasp on the rank epaulet, with a wide black belt that circled the waist and was clasped with a large insignia for a buckle. The pants were similar to what he wore on his past ships, except these had a tan stripe down the sides. It was in this uniform that he reported to the _Oberth_. 

Apollo liked how Starfleet incorporated the department designations into the uniforms. The turtleneck shirt underneath the jacket revealed the new colors of the departments: white for command, green for sciences, and red for support. Apollo didn't see any white shirts on this bridge; he wore the only one. They mostly wore green. _It's still nice on the eyes, though. The only thing I have to note is that it has a clearly military look, yet Starfleet has clearly insisted that we aren't a military organization, but one devoted to science and exploration._ He smirked. _Yeah, right. Tell that one to the Klingons_. 

He turned to the nearest officer. "Has the captain boarded yet?" 

The bridge crew smiled at each other. The officer spoken to, however, managed to keep a straight face. "Don't worry, sir. You'll meet him soon enough." 

Slightly puzzled by that statement, Apollo was about to ask for elaboration when the communications officer spoke up. "Sir, I'm getting a call from Starfleet Command." 

Apollo frowned. _Normally, the captain would take such calls, but since he's not here..._ "Well, we can't keep them waiting. Put them on screen." 

She complied, and Admiral Nogura's image replaced the one seen from out of spacedock. "_Greetings, crew of the _Oberth_. I'm always proud of a crew that is privileged to break in a new style of ship. We were pleased with her test runs and simulations, so what you're on now is the end result: a vessel dedicated to science and exploration. Now, she has teeth, of course; we wouldn't send an unarmed vessel out into deep space. But know that you'll be playing an integral part of charting our galaxy and making many new discoveries in the future. You are our laboratories in space_. 

"_It also gives me great pleasure to inform you that along with a new ship, I am also giving you a new captain. This man has proven himself in the field time and time again. He's a multi-purpose officer, who has basically performed any task that could be done on a starship, and I believe that the best captain is one who knows not only his job, but of those who serve him as well. So again let me say that it is an honor and a privilege to introduce to you... Captain Apollo A. Racer_." 

All eyes turned toward Apollo, who was himself more than a little stunned. He wanted to say something, but no words would come out. 

"_Captain, the ship is yours. I know that you'll command her with distinction and honor. Admiral Nogura out_." His image disappeared to be replaced with the view from spacedock again. 

Applause rang out on the bridge. Apollo was filled with pride. All he could think about was that he had reached his dream. He felt a twinge of regret that Skip couldn't be there to see this day, but Apollo assured himself that his friend would be proud. He slowly made his way to the command chair, then gingerly sat down in it, getting the feel of it's contours as it settled around him. Granted, he had sat in command chairs before, but this one was _his_. The fact that he was given the honor of taking a new ship out for her maiden voyage made the promotion all that much sweeter. 

He felt that he had to say something. He stood up. "Well, this is unexpected. All I can say is that it's a privilege to get the chance to work with you. I hope we can make this voyage a good one." He paused, looking at the faces of everyone around him. Some of them were smiling; he had served with them before, so they knew they could trust him. All of them were expectant, patiently waiting for their first orders. "Prelaunch countdown will commence in thirty minutes. Now, if you'll excuse me," he looked at his left sleeve, where his rank insignia was affixed; it was situated over pins that indicated his eleven years of service. There was a duplicate rank pin on his right shoulder. "I seem to be out of uniform." He turned and strode off the bridge. 

The next time he set foot on the bridge, his uniform properly reflected his rank. He walked to his chair and gracefully sat down. 

The helmsman turned toward his new commanding officer. "Sir, count is T minus one minute." 

Apollo smiled with anticipation. "Very good. Forward thrusters at station keeping." 

"Aye, sir. Thrusters at station keeping." 

His communications officer spoke up. "Captain, Starfleet has cleared us for launch. They wish us bon voyage." 

"Thank you, Lieutenant. Acknowledge them, please." 

_Well, this is it. Here we go._ He never felt so excited before. "Helm. Thrusters ahead one-quarter." He paused, leaning forward in his seat. "Take us out." 

"Aye, sir. And away we go." On the screen, the interior view of spacedock gave way to open space. After a few minutes, the helmsman spoke again. "We are clear of spacedock." 

Apollo sat back. "Set a course to leave this system, full impulse. Then once we clear the system, come to a heading of 318 mark 4." 

As his order was confirmed, he felt the ship shift under him as it changed direction. Then the planets whipped by as they reached full impulse speed. 

"Sir, we have now left the Sol system. New course heading in place." 

Their captain smiled. "Warp one, then." 

The screen erupted in a shower of light. They were under way. Apollo felt that now was the time to make a statement. He thumbed on his recorder. 

_Captain's Log, stardate 7460.3:_

_This is the beginning of the voyages of the _USS Oberth_, a science vessel dedicated to improve and expand the knowledge of the Federation. This is also the beginning of my voyages as a starship captain, as her captain. I always felt that one day, I would be commanding a ship to the stars. Now, after two hundred plus years, that dream has come to fruition. An awful long time to wait... but it was worth it._

_Our first mission is a simple one, but one that promises an increased understanding of our galaxy. The star Wundstadt 129, a white dwarf, is nearing the next transition in its life. We have been sent to study this transition, and its effects on the surrounding region. It is exactly the reason for a ship of this new class._

He thumbed off his log recorder, satisfied with his summary. Then he just sat back, and enjoyed the ride. 


	14. Origins Chapter Fourteen

_CHAPTER FOURTEEN_

It was three in the morning, and Apollo couldn't sleep. It's been three months since the _Oberth_ left Earth, yet he was still a little jumpy by the prospect that the ship was his; he still half expected the captain to come up behind him and say, "Racer, what in blazes are you doing up at this ungodly hour!" That, of course, would be impossible, since he was the captain. _Captain Apollo_, he thought. _It's been over two hundred years since I've been called that. I guess things have pretty much come full circle_. 

Since he couldn't sleep, Apollo made it a habit of "going on his rounds" - walking through the ship and its various departments. One night during the first month of this habit, Apollo got a little mischievous, and opened his mind to see if he could detect any surface thoughts. He encountered the thoughts of a couple behaving very intimately. It took fifteen minutes before Apollo could get his face below even a normal shade of red, so he never did that again, and chastised himself about using his powers responsibly. 

Another thing he found was that his crew liked to see him on his route. It gave them a sense that he cared about his crew - which he did immensely - and that he was interested enough to leave the bridge and actively participate in events happening on his ship. 

This night, he was just prowling the corridor, to wear himself out so he could sleep. Just when he felt he was ready to return to his quarters, he was shocked back into wakefulness. "Captain, what in blazes are you doing up at this ungodly hour?" 

Apollo turned to see Thelem, his first officer coming up behind him. "I'm sorry, sir, did I startle you?" he said in an innocent voice, one that thinly veiled the fact that he knew startling the captain was exactly what he intended. 

"You know damn well you did," Apollo replied with a smile. "I thought I was the only one who made rounds on this ship." 

Thelem returned Apollo's smile. His antenna perked up. "No one else is either that foolish or crazy. I was merely coming from my meditations in the chapel. The fact that we met was merely coincidence." 

"Coincidence, my ass," the captain said. "You just like to bug me." 

Thelem thought about that one. "Let's just say... I like to keep you on your toes." They chuckled. "Tell me, sir, were you planning on retiring for the night?" 

"I was until you woke me up. Why, what's on your mind?" 

"Oh, I simply felt the need to talk. If it intrudes on your privacy, I can wait another time." 

Apollo shook his head. "No, no, you're not intruding. If I wanted privacy, I certainly wouldn't be walking the halls." He led Thelem to the recreation room. Several people were engaged in various forms of relaxing activities, from reading books to practicing martial arts. Apollo and his Andorian friend found a vacant table and sat down. "Now, what's on your mind?" 

Thelem came right out. "What is your opinion of this crew, this ship? Are you satisfied with their performance?" 

Apollo found the question odd, but he took his time answering it. "I believe that for what we've been given for assignments, we've done rather well. Why do you ask?" 

Now it was Thelem's turn to take his time. "Well, sir. It's just that I've been... studying you. You may say that your situation is satisfactory, but your mood, your actions, state otherwise." 

Apollo sat back and crossed his arms. "Oh, really. And what, pray tell, would my actions suggest to you?" 

To compensate for Apollo moving back, Thelem moved forward. "You seem to want more from this ship, and I think I know what it is." He paused. "Throughout your career, you've served on _Constitution_-class ships. They see much action. Suddenly, you're in command, but of a science vessel, and while I don't wish to state the obvious, interesting encounters have been rather scarce." 

"Give it time. We've only been out here a few months. I'm sure something will pop up." He was trying to bolster Thelem's confidence; after all, Andorians are a warrior race. But he had to admit to himself that some of what Thelem had said hit home, too. "Besides, not everyone in Starfleet gets to participate in big conflicts, though I admit I've seen my share. Don't get me wrong, I fully understand your need to experience adventure. But we've got five years ahead of us, and it's a big galaxy." 

As if to emphasize his remark, the intercom beeped. "_Bridge to Captain Racer. Bridge to Captain Racer._" 

"Speak of the devil." Each table had a communication setup at one end, to convenience crewmembers from having to get up. Apollo used the one at his table now. "Racer here, what is it." 

His communications officer, Collins, replied immediately. "_Captain, I'm picking up a distress signal. I think you need to hear this for yourself._" 

Apollo glanced at his first officer. "I'm on my way." He got up. "Well, my friend, I believe we're about to get ourselves some adventure." 

~ * ~ 

They stormed onto the bridge. "All right, Collins. Let's hear it." 

Collins brought the gain up on the signal and it spewed forth on the speakers. _"Attention any Federation vessel. This is the _USS Hawthorne_. We have been hit by a Klingon ambush. Main power is down, and auxiliary power will only hold out for 6 hours at best. We desperately need assistance. If any Federation vessel is in range, please respond."_

Apollo looked concerned, and trained that look on his comm officer. "Have you made contact with them?" 

He shrugged his shoulders in frustration. "I've tried, sir, but they're not receiving us. We have to be closer for me to find out why." 

The captain nodded absently. "Contact Starfleet, let them know what we've got." He turned to Thelem. "What ships are near them?" 

Thelem rushed over to the science console. After a moment's perusing, he straightened up. "I'm afraid we're the closest ship, sir." He honestly tried to look disappointed. 

But Apollo could see right through it. "All right." As he headed to his seat, he barked out his orders. "Collins, send a message to any ship in range that their help would be appreciated. Stewart," he addressed his helm officer. "Get the coordinates of that SOS from Collins. Lay in a course, maximum warp. And I want this ship on Yellow Alert." 

"Aye, sir," Stewart responded, "changing course and speed as ordered." 

As the _Oberth_ spun around to its new heading, Apollo couldn't help but think, why have I got this annoying sense of deja vu? "What's our ETA to the _Hawthorne_?" 

"Only three hours at this speed, sir." 

"Very good. Steady as she goes." 

~ * ~ 

_Captains Log, Supplemental:_

_The _Oberth_, upon arriving at the _Hawthorne_'s position, has found it drifting toward a nearby planet. If she falls within the gas giant's atmosphere, she will almost certainly be crushed in its gravity well. The planet is slightly larger than Jupiter, and I have great doubts that the __Miranda_-class ship would last very long if they had to wait for another ship. In other words, it's up to us. 

"Collins, can you hail them?" their captain asked. 

"Stand by, sir." A moment of silence passed. "I have them." 

"Put me through." He waited, Collins nodded. Apollo stood up. "This is Captain Apollo A. Racer of the _Oberth_ calling the _Hawthorne_. Can you read us?" 

Static came over the bridge speakers; then it cleared. "Oberth_, this is Captain Simmons of the _Hawthorne_. We hear you, but just barely. My comm officer is having a coronary trying to keep the signal clear. Do me a favor. How do we look to you?_" 

Apollo studied the ship on their screen. "Well, Captain, to put simply, yeesh! I mean, you're a mess. You're situation's not too hot, either." 

"_Please explain, _Oberth_. I'm afraid our sensors are out, so we're blind as a bat here_." 

Apollo took a deep breath. "Well, your ship is drifting toward a gas giant, but I'm sure we can pull you free." 

"_By all means, be my guest. Just try not to scratch the paint_." 

Apollo couldn't help but smirk. "Trust me... right now, scratched paint is the least of your worries." 

He heard a laugh on the other end. "_Boy, I'm glad you're not a doctor. Your bedside manners are atrocious. _Hawthorne_ out_." 

Apollo turned to face his bridge crew. "Well, you heard the man. Let's get his butt out of the fire. Thelem, how low are we to standard orbit around the gas giant." 

Thelem turned to his scanners. "Uh, I'm afraid we've dropped below standard orbit, sir. In fact, we're almost within the planet's atmosphere." 

Apollo got up and paced the bridge. "Alllllllll righty then. Mr. Stewart, power up the tractor beam. Let's get them out of there." 

"Yes, sir. Lining up for tow." Stewart manipulated his controls. "Activating now." 

The ship rocked as the tractor beam took hold. The strain could clearly be heard. Thelem kept his eye on the scanners through the whole time. "Captain, the _Hawthorne_ is too far in the planet's gravity. All we've done is slow their descent." 

As Apollo silently cursed the news, his chair beeped. "_Bridge, this is Engineering. What the hell is going on up there? My engines are sounding like whipped dogs_!" 

He was silently taken aback by this saucy female's voice. "Ah, excuse me, Commander, but we're currently on a rescue mission. I'm sorry if 'your' engines are complaining, but right now, I'm going to need every thing they've got. In fact, we need more power to the tractor beam, if you could manage it." 

"_Boy, you sure don't ask for much, do you?_" Her voice overflowed with sarcasm. "_All right, I'll see what I can do_." The connection closed. 

Apollo couldn't help but shrug. Stewart then announced, "Tractor beam power has just increased to 115 percent." 

He then heard Thelem behind him. "The _Hawthorne_ is slowly being extricated; but we're approaching shearing force on the tractor beam." 

As if to emphasize his point, the ship rocked violently, sending people to the floor. Apollo picked himself up. "What in blazes was that?" 

Thelem looked up. "That, sir, was our tractor beam. We lost the emitter. _Hawthorne_ is once again floating toward the planet." 

Apollo rapped his chair. "Damn. Well, does anybody have any suggestions?" 

Thelem thought for a moment. "Well, since we couldn't pull them out, is there a way we could push them out?" 

Stewart shook his head. "No can do. They're too close to the atmosphere. Besides, since we lost our tractor beam we don't have anything to push with." 

The Andorian worked at his station. "True. But I figured that if we detonate a photon torpedo close to their hull, the shock wave might be enough to push them away." 

Apollo disagreed. "Too risky. We might crush the hull as much as push them, besides damaging us as well." He continued pacing, but after a few minutes, he stopped and snapped his fingers. "Can we take this ship into the atmosphere?" 

His crew was shocked. His navigator, Speller, spoke up. "Sir, wouldn't we get caught in the atmosphere? How would we get out?" 

Apollo glared at his navigator, but kept it civil. "First of all, we could use a parabolic course and use its gravity to our advantage. Besides, they can't get out in their current condition; our ship is fully functional. I would hope there's a significant difference between the two." 

As his crew thought about that, he threw them another curve. "As we come upon their ship, we'll use our navigational deflector to bounce them out of the planet's gravity." 

Thelem took a step toward his captain. "But Captain, that's never been tried before. How are you sure it will work?" 

Apollo was close to losing his temper, but his Vulcan techniques kept him in control, barely. "You wanted precedent setting, you've got it." His eyes practically blazed in Thelem's direction. He took a step back. Apollo then proceeded for the benefit of the rest of his crew. "When we're at warp, our navigational deflector works to brush aside any objects that would threaten our hull integrity. What I'm planning is this - and before you say anything, I have taken into account that the _Hawthorne_ is a little larger than any flotsam the deflector is used to." He got up and started pacing. 

An idea struck him. "What if we add warp power to our forward shields? We could then use them to act as a type of cow catcher, and help it out of the planet's influence. At the same time, our velocity would be enough to keep us from getting caught ourselves." 

Thelem's eyes widened at the suggestion. He returned to his science console and worked over the board. "It might be possible, sir. It would involve the integration of certain systems in ways that they've never been used before, but it just might work." 

Apollo rushed to his seat. "Good. Let's get to work." As he sat down, he punched the comm button. "Bridge to Engineering. Rawlings, I'll need you up here to confer with Mr. Thelem on our next plan of action." 

"_I'm on my way_," came the reply. 

~ * ~ 

"Captain, we're all set," Rawlings said. She was standing at the engineering substation, behind and to the left of the captain's chair and next to the turbolift. Thelem was walking around to the left side of the bridge, where his science station was. 

Apollo turned toward his chief engineer. "Good work, Rawlings, Thelem. Collins, patch me through to the Hawthorne." 

"Aye, sir," Collins said as he worked the controls. 

"_Hawthorne_, this is the _Oberth_, come in." 

Collins was shaking his head. "Sir, I show that they're reading us, but they can't respond anymore. Damage previously taken to their communications system." He looked up. "From what I'm getting on my sensors, Captain, it's amazing that they were able to talk to us in the first place." 

Apollo nodded absently. "Understood. But they can hear me." 

"Yes, sir." 

"Good," he signaled to continue. "Captain Simmons, we're aware of your situation, so sit back and listen. We're ready for attempt number two. Normally, I would say 'third time's the charm', but I don't think we can afford a third try. I intend this to be successful; if it's not, I'll personally get out and push your ship myself. Now, your going to feel a mild bump... hell, you're going to think that you've been hit by a moon. I've been reassured that it won't cause any more damage to your ship than you've already received. Unless, of course, your Inertial Dampening Field has malfunctioned, in which case the whole subject is moot, and I'll see you on the other side. So inform your crew to grab on to anything that's bolted down and hold on tight, because it's going to be a hell of a ride." 

He signaled the channel closed. "All right, let's do it. Helm, take up our starting position." 

"Aye, sir. Swinging around." 

The _Oberth_ made a graceful arc and moved away from the _Hawthorne_. It shot around the gas giant and took position just outside its influence. 

Apollo punched his intercom. "All hands, this is the captain speaking. We're about to ram another ship, so if you have anything to hold on to, now's the time to grab it. Oh, and uh... now wouldn't be a bad time to say a prayer, either." He switched it off, and swiveled to face his first officer. At Thelem's skeptical look, he simply shrugged. "How fast do you think we need to go?" 

"We need to be traveling at one-half impulse for this to work." 

Apollo grimaced as he made the calculations in his head. "Well, for all intents and purposes, you had better be right that we won't damage them. Mr. Stewart, ahead full impulse." 

Stewart entered the command, and the _Oberth_ launched itself toward the planet. They swung into a low orbit and accelerated toward the _Hawthorne_. 

Apollo clenched his teeth. "Hang on. Here comes jolt number one." On that note, everyone lurched forward as the gravity clutched at the ship. 

Stewart called out. "Sir, we're decelerating. Approaching three-quarters impulse." 

Jolt number two came unexpectedly, as they suddenly slammed into the _Hawthorne._ Rawlings lost her grip and was flung over the command chair. Apollo saw her flying over him and brought his arm up and out, catching her in the midriff and swinging her into his lap. He heard an audible outtake of air as he knocked the breath out of her, and as such, he clung to her as she was too dazed to hold on herself. Consoles sparked as systems were overloaded. 

The view from outside was spectacular. The _Oberth_ hit the _Hawthorne_ dead on. Whatever was left of the _Hawthorne_'s shields sparkled brightly as they came into contact with the other ship's deflector beam. Just as they were pushed out of the way, their shields failed. The port nacelle of the damaged ship bent sharply inward, but by that point they had veered away, causing no other damage. The _Hawthorne_ floated safely away from the planet. 

Aboard the _Oberth_ they were just recovering. Collins groaned. "Ohhhhhhhhh... what a ride. I want my money back." 

Apollo looked up at him. "Sorry, no refunds." He then turned his attention on the woman in his lap. "Please, Rawlings, we're on duty." Rawling smiled and blushed a deep red. She tried to get up and failed on the first try. Apollo kept her from making a second attempt. "Are you all right?" 

She held a hand to her head. "I... I think so, sir. I just had the wind knocked out of me, that's all." 

Apollo stood, helping her up in the process. "Just the same, I think you'd better go to Sickbay and make sure." 

"Understood, sir." She paused at the railing to make sure she could keep her balance, then made her way to the turbolift. 

"Damage report." Apollo called out. 

"Although our forward shields are down to five percent and we suffered some systems failures, we're still more or less functional. There are some minor injuries, however... some people didn't have enough time to lash themselves down." Thelem reported. 

"I see," Apollo said with a nod. "Let's get back to the _Hawthorne_ and see how they're doing." 

~ * ~ 

A half an hour later, Apollo was standing on the bridge of Simmons' ship. As he surveyed the damage around him, he couldn't help but wonder if this was all caused by the battle or if they were responsible for some of it. He watched as his medical team took the more seriously injured people off the bridge. 

Simmons himself was sitting in his chair, though it was tilted rather grotesquely; as a result, he was more leaning against it than actually sitting in it. He was holding a bandage to his head as a medic taped it in place. Apollo approached him. "Captain, I'm sorry if I gave you a rough ride." 

"It worked, though. Hell, you weren't kidding when you said it'd be a rough ride. My head aches like hell." He shrugged, which caused his head to hurt more. "But it worked, didn't it?" 

Apollo looked at him sheepishly. "Yes. Technically." 

Simmons looked up. "What do you mean, technically?" 

"Your shields failed before we completed the maneuver. I'm afraid we knocked your warp drive out of alignment a tad." 

Simmons bounced his head up and down. "A tad. Right. Heh... I'm surprised we still even have a warp drive." He sighed. "Well, we have impulse." 

The _Oberth_'s captain shook his head. "Captain, the nearest starbase is three days away at warp six. Don't worry, I've already called for a couple of starships and a tow for you. I know, it's not the most graceful way to show up at a starbase, but it's better than the alternative." 

"This is true." Simmons stood up. "Listen to me. You just risked your ship and crew saving us, and I'm griping about it." He shook Apollo's hand. "Thank you, Captain, for what you've done. Because of your efforts, a lot more people will be able to go home. I appreciate it." 

"Just doing my duty. If you ever need anything, look me up." 

Simmons chuckled. "That should be my line, but thanks just the same." 

Apollo stayed on the _Hawthorne_ until help arrived, then he transported to his own ship. He was met by his first officer. "On to our next mission, eh, Thelem?" The Andorian didn't move. He waited until Apollo stepped down from the pads before saying, "You did a good job, sir." "No, Thelem... _we_ did a good job." He clapped his friend on the back as they walked out of the transporter room. 


	15. Origins Chapter Fifteen

_CHAPTER FIFTEEN_

_Captain's Log, Stardate 7993.4:_

_The _Oberth_ is approaching Starbase 47 for resupply and crew rotations. According to a message I received last week from Starfleet Command, I am to be on the list of crew to be rotated. It has been a good five years. The ship's performance has been admirable, and the crew I've served with has been commendable; they are a crew I will be reluctant to leave, but privileged to introduce to another captain._

Apollo paused, then toggled a switch on the log recorder.

_Personal log, SD 7993.4:_

_I have mixed feelings about this. It has been a wonderful experience. Although I have made some good friends on this voyage, the ones I truly wanted to share this with me are not around. Karen had been on inactive duty upon having Ethan... she planned on returning from Starfleet had the __Excalibur_ returned as it should, due in part to the loss of her husband she decided to remain on inactive status. I can't say I blame her much. The man has definitely left some empty space behind in our hearts. 

_I haven't a clue as to the whereabouts of the fourth person in our little circle. I lost contact with her shortly after my tour aboard the _Merrimac_. Phil Komack told me once that the _Enterprise_ was the only _Constitution_-class vessel to return from her five-year mission intact. Since then I have had nothing but hope for her safety_." 

He closed his log absently, lost in thought. In the past couple of months, he found himself reminiscing more and more. He attributed it partly to the fact that in his time with the _Oberth_, he really didn't see that much action, at least not as much as his previous assignments. _Maybe this is why I'm being reassigned. They see me as handling more than a science vessel._ Indeed, other than the incident with the _Hawthorne_, the most exciting thing to have happened to him was the change in uniforms. _A good thing, too. I was glad to see that sleepwear go._ He glanced around the bridge, eyeing his bridge crew. 

Collins brought him out of his reverie. "Captain, Starbase 47 is hailing us. They give us permission to dock, and they want to welcome us to their facilities. 

Apollo nodded. "Very well. Tell them we're grateful for the invitation." 

He stayed on the bridge during the docking procedure. Technically, he didn't have any reason to stay... the starbase locked on to the ship with tractor beams and guided the ship in. They basically did all the work. This time, however, Apollo felt that he should be present when the _Oberth_ docked for the last time under his command. 

He listened to the buzz of communication as everyone did their respective duty. He often listened to his crew like this; it relaxed him, knowing that the ship was in capable hands. 

He felt a sudden shift as the _Oberth_ came to a stop. Collins had kept in constant contact with Starbase 47 throughout the whole process. This time he spoke up to indicate that he was talking to the captain. "Starbase signals that we are secure." 

Apollo slapped his lap and stood up. "That's it, then. Everybody out." He headed toward the doors, then stopped. Something told him to turn around. He did, and noticed that all eyes were on him. He remembered the day that he first took command. When they looked at him that day, he saw in them eagerness, excitement and a little intrepidation. During the five years they had been together, he had proven himself to him, and they to him. They earned each other's complete respect and loyalty; he was responsible for them, and he brought them home. He showed them that he was entirely willing to work side by side with them instead of standing back and giving orders. He was their friend as well as their captain. Perhaps for this reason Apollo also read sadness on some of their faces. He was leaving them; sure, it may be possible that some of them may go with him to his next assignment, but it was more likely that most of them would be assigned to other ships. Some crew members would even be staying with the _Oberth_, perhaps stepping up a position or two. 

He took a breath and cleared his throat. "I see your faces, and I can't help but feel what you're thinking. We had some good times together. If fate is merciful, we shall have more ahead of us. One thing is certain, though. I couldn't have had a better crew to break me in and support me. You have all been so loyal, so honorable, that I shall never forget you. Thank you, one and all." At first there was silence, then one by one they began applauding. He smiled. He finished by adding, "Last one out, turn off the lights," then continued his journey to the transporter room. 

As soon as he left the turbolift, he was met with more applause. Apparently, Collins had put his little speech over the intercom, so the whole crew could hear it. Apollo felt glad. The speech was meant for the whole crew, after all. He entered the transporter room and went to the pad. As he got into position, he spoke to the technician. "Make sure that shore leave is granted for everyone." He smiled, winked, and gave her a two-fingered salute. "Energize." 

He coalesced in the transporter room of Starbase 47. Two people were waiting for him. "Captain Racer, I'm Admiral Sheffield. This is Commodore Black. We've been expecting you." 

Apollo shook his hand. "Thank you, Admiral. I'm flattered. I didn't think my return would warrant an admiral's attention." 

Sheffield chuckled. "You underrate yourself, Captain. You just finished a voyage in our new science vessel; your reports had convinced us to continue using it... in fact, about halfway into your tour, Starfleet had launched about a dozen _Oberth_-class ships." He gave Apollo time to allow that to sink in. "Secondly, let's just say that the unofficial word in Starfleet is that you lead a charmed life." 

Apollo's eyes widened slightly at that comment. "Oh, really. How so?" 

Sheffield's chuckle turned into a laugh. "You really are humble, aren't you? For all the trials and tribulations you've been through, and you have no idea what to call it? That's really good." 

They passed into the commodore's office. Sheffield's smile was immediately wiped from his face. "Sit down, Captain." Faced with his own method of changing moods nearly instantaneously, Apollo did as he was asked. 

Commodore Black took the floor. "Captain, I'm sure you've heard about the increased Romulan activity in the recent months." Apollo nodded. "Good," Black continued, "Our intelligence reports show that they've developed a new type of warship." He pressed a control on his desk. A 3-D schematic of the ship hovered over the desk. "This new Nova-class battle cruiser has about twice the firepower of our heavy cruisers. She was built for one purpose and one purpose only... war." 

Apollo studied the schematic. He understood what they were saying; what he didn't understand was why they were telling it to him. He said as much. 

Sheffield got up, placed his hands on the desk, and leaned toward the captain. "As I said on our way from the transporter room, we've reviewed your logs. Hell, we've had the logs and records of every starship captain currently in service reviewed. We narrowed it down to two choices. However, our first choice is going to be promoted soon. And our second choice... well, our second choice just walked through the door." 

Apollo was visibly perplexed. "Wait a minute, sir. Choices for what?" 

Sheffield smiled. "Our crowning achievement." He gestured toward the door. As Apollo was looking for an answer, he got up and they walked out. 

The admiral kept talking as they headed down the corridor. "You may not know this, but we could tell through your logs that however satisfied you were with command, you felt your talents were confined on a science vessel. Yet you seemed to know how to work the bugs out of the _Oberth_. So we thought you'd like to take a look at our newest ship." 

He had timed it perfectly. He finished his speech just as they entered the observation lounge. _They must have rehearsed this,_ Apollo thought wrily. An entire wall in the lounge was devoted to a viewport that looked out at the ships berthed at the starbase. He couldn't see the _Oberth_, which was just as well. Even if it were in plain view, he wouldn't have seen it because of the ship that currently drew his attention. 

It was based on a heavy cruiser design, but its lines bespoke more power. There were three nacelles instead of the standard two. Normally, starships had only two nacelles, but Apollo had read of significant advances in using three nacelles for more speed and power. 

Apollo suddenly realized that he nearly had his face pressed to the window in awe. He recovered quickly. "Is that what I think it is?" he asked the admiral incredulously. 

Sheffield gestured toward it. "Our battle cruiser. The _USS Firestone_. The first of its class. She looks similar to a heavy cruiser, but let me assure you, that's where the similarities end. This baby is loaded for bear. She's ready for any Romulans that want to start something. 

Black chimed in. "This ship can outrun, outgun, outmaneuver, and just plain outclass any ship currently in space. And she's all yours, Captain. All you have to do is just say the word." 

Apollo was awestruck. He was like a little kid who was just given the largest, most expensive Christmas present a kid could ever desire. "I... I don't know, sir. This is a very generous assignment. But, I think you should know... I've firmly believed in Starfleet's principles of being primarily an group for scientific exploration. This ship has only one role... combat. I mean, if my orders are to take command of this vessel, I obviously have no choice." 

"No, no, Racer." Sheffield denied, "No orders, at least not yet. At this point, it's a request, primarily volunteer. They won't become orders until - unless - you accept. If you do, they'll be finished before you go to sleep tonight." He watched Apollo mull it over in his head. "Tell you what, I'll give you something to sleep over." He held out his arm, revealing that he was holding a padd. "This holds the tech specs of the _Firestone_. Look them over, then give me your answer in the morning." At the captain's hesitation, he added, "I understand how you feel, Captain... and we _are_ primarily devoted to exploration. But there comes a time when someone will take more than a little offense to our being out here. We need to show them we have just as much right as they do." 

Apollo stared at the admiral for a moment, then he reached out and took the padd. "I'll take a look at this and see what I think." 

Sheffield grinned and winked. "Good. That's all I ask right now. I'll see you then. Dismissed." He and Black left the lounge. Apollo remained behind to get another long look at the _Firestone_, then he, too, left the lounge. 

~ * ~ 

He didn't get much sleep that night. He was too busy studying the specs, marveling at the research and development that must have gone into designing the behemoth parked at the starbase. According to what he read, most of the equipment on the ship was experimental. A prime example was a pair of devices called megaphasers, one situated at both port and starboard on the primary hull. She had four photon torpedo bays, two above and two below the secondary hull, each with two launchers, and phaser banks all over the place. 

When he first saw the ship, he saw nothing but a beautiful ship. Now, after reading the specs, he realized that the ship was a freak. The ship gave up half its luxuries and cargo bay space for ammo, an extra computer core, and the resources to power it all at once. This was clearly a warship. Thinking back to both medieval English and Norse legends, this was a big, fat Brunnhilde packed into Guinevere's petite frame. 

Thinking about that, Apollo shifted into engineer's mode, and really studied the specs. He realized that he really admired the construction of this ship. It had a lot of weapons, and it wasn't really that much faster than any other ship in the Fleet, so he deduced that the third nacelle was used primarily to power the extra weapons and defenses. He also realized how much responsibility it would take to command such a vessel. When Apollo turned out the light in his quarters to sleep, it was with a troubled mind. 

~ * ~ 

"You what!?" Sheffield's face was positively crimson with anger. 

Apollo appropriately chose to wear his Vulcan demeanor when presenting his report the next morning. "I said I don't want the _Firestone_. I do not wish to command a ship that is built primarily for war. As I mentioned yesterday, I believe that Starfleet should be an organization that is primarily geared for exploration, and that ship has no room in such a fleet. Therefore, I respectfully decline the offer. I understand that there are very few starship commanders that you feel are suited for such a task, and I am honored that you thought of me; however, I believe you will find another one." Apollo's tone didn't waver much through his entire speech. 

_Long winded son of a bitch_, Sheffield darkly thought. He mumbled something under his breath, but Apollo didn't ask him to elaborate. The admiral had been staring at his desk after Apollo finished speaking. Now he looked back up at this captain who dared give him this news. Apollo saw outrage in Sheffield's face, but he also saw defeat. Sheffield opened his mouth to speak, but the comlink went off. He touched a control on the desk. "Black's office. Sheffield here." 

"Admiral, this is chief Clemens over in the restricted area. I think we have a situation here." 

Sheffield looked at Apollo, clearly puzzled. "What kind of situation? Do you need reinforcements?" 

"Sir, at this time I... aargh!" His statement was cut off by a loud bang. 

Apollo raised an eyebrow. "That sounded like a gunshot." He was already heading for the door. 

"A what? Racer, what are you talking about? Where are you going!?" 

He turned around and fixed Sheffield with a stare that sent shivers down the admiral's spine. "I would highly suggest that you send those reinforcements. Tell them I'm on my way." 

Sheffield sputtered. "What do you... You can't go..." 

Apollo cut him off. "Sir, no disrespect intended, but just do it!" He didn't allow any further rebuttal, as he was out the door. 

He reached the scene of the disturbance at the same time as about a half dozen other security guards. Two men were lying on the floor. Apollo stooped over the nearest one and checked him. "This one is dead," he stated. 

The team leader took his cue and checked the other one. "I'm afraid this one is, too, sir." 

Apollo stood and glared down the corridor. "Damn.... Contact the infirmary. Have them pick up these two. I'm going to investigate." 

The team leader stood up. "All due respect, sir, I think we should wait until we find out what we're up against." 

Apollo had a good guess as to the cause, but he didn't think he was going to get past the guard with just an argument. "Very well." At that time, medics were showing up on the scene. "Keep your men here to investigate this immediate area. You and I will follow these guys to the infirmary." With a bunch of nods, the group split up and headed in different directions. 

~ * ~ 

Doctor Brackett was examining one of the corpses, while Apollo hovered over him. Sheffield wasn't too much further away. The doctor went from the corpse to the huge wall screen that showed the corpse's statistics. Clearly, Apollo was watching a 23rd century autopsy. The doctor was muttering little sounds of affirmation, sounds Apollo has heard many typical doctors make when they were studying something out of the ordinary. Finally, he got too frustrated at the noise. "What did you find?" he spoke out. 

The doctor finally acknowledged that he was not alone in the infirmary. "Ah, Captain. This man died in a very interesting way. He was shot by a projectile weapon, but the wound itself was not what caused his death." 

Sheffield was flustered. "Now what the hell is that supposed to mean?" 

Brackett looked from the admiral to Apollo, then decided that while both men wanted to know what happened, Apollo was genuinely interested in the details. He motioned the captain over to the table and lifted an eyelid of the corpse. "Do you see this?" 

Apollo leaned over and examined the victim's eye. He didn't see much... a grayish haze had developed over the eye. "What is that?" 

Brackett left the patient and walked back over to the diagnostic screen. Apollo followed. "These are the tendrils extending from a spiderweb bullet." He looked at Apollo, who shrugged. He went on. "That's just the slang term. When this particular projectile penetrates its victim, microscopic neurocidal fibers "grow" from it. They are designed to follow the neural pathways of its victim until they reach the brain. They then wrap around the brain stem and constrict. This causes all neurological function to cease. The haze you see are the fibers. For some reason, they have a tendency to flow around the eyes on their way to the brain stem." 

Apollo shared his thoughts. "So these projectiles are biological in nature?" 

"Not so much biological as pseudo-organic." He turned to Sheffield to make sure the admiral wasn't lost in the conversation. "That means that it's inorganic, but it was designed to mimic an organic signature." He returned to his explanation. "No matter where this bullet penetrates the skin, these fibers will make their way to the brain. Even a graze is enough to kill, for the bullet leaves behind the matrix to produce the fibers as it passes along the tissue." 

Apollo shivered. "It sounds like a particularly ghastly way to die." 

"It is," Brackett agreed. "What's puzzling is this." He entered some instructions into a panel next to the screen. A small window opened in the readout and information scrolled across it. "This type of weapon was outlawed in the Federation during the beginning of the 23rd century. Anyone in possession of it carries a severe penalty." 

Apollo nodded. "Then we have to find this person before he or she causes any more deaths." 

Sheffield snorted, attracting attention. "How can we find this person if we don't even know what they're up to?" 

Apollo thought about that for a moment. "There are two possibilities based on the evidence we have so far. Either the parties in question are after the _Firestone_, or they are using it as a decoy for their real plan. I, for one, see the latter choice as unlikely, therefore it would be wise to warn anyone involved in the _Firestone_ project to be alert for anyone acting suspiciously. If they find someone, they should use extreme caution. Let them know about the spiderweb gun, and what it can do." He turned to the admiral. "We should also carry on as though we know nothing of what has happened. For all intents and purposes, these men simply died of mysterious causes." 

"But what good will that do? We should use this knowledge to capture these people." Sheffield protested. 

"And we will. But if let them know that we know too much, they will be much more careful, or they will abort the plan all together, and leave." 

It seemed to Apollo that Sheffield finally got hold of his senses. He turned to the guard who followed them to the infirmary. "Baker, you're in charge, now. Quietly inform your troops of what we found. Have all transporters set to scan for projectile weapons or parts for weapons. Also have sensors reconfigured at shuttle bays for the same. That way, if someone trips them, we'll have somewhere to start. 

"Yes, sir." The new security chief gave a smart salute and exited the infirmary. 

Sheffield then turned to Apollo. "Captain, since you seem to have a grasp on what is going on, I'm putting you in charge of this investigation. It'll be your responsibility to stop this madman's plan." He paused, looking for all intents as if he had just eaten crow. "I guess when this is all over, we'll send _Firestone_ back to the drawing board. Don't worry, though. We'll have a ship for you." 

"I appreciate that, Admiral. But first, I have to catch a killer." 

~ * ~ 

Apollo was talking with Baker in the lounge. They purposely avoided talking about the scene they had witnessed earlier that day; as a result, they found a friend in each other. They were still chatting when Apollo jerked upright, hearing a voice from his past. 

"Well, well, well. Look what we have here." 

Apollo turned around and looked directly into the face of Ted Stevens. "I'm surprised you stayed in Starfleet after the _Merrimac_." The captain's former superior officer lost none of his hypocritical tone over the years. 

"I might say the same of you." Apollo retorted. 

His adversary studied Apollo over. "I see you've made it up through the ranks. Good job you did with the _Oberth_." 

Apollo knew that Stevens' compliment carried no sincerity in it. "I notice that you are also a captain. Impressive that you would make it up through the ranks again." Apollo knew that after the fiasco on the _Merrimac_, Stevens had been busted down a couple of ranks. 

Stevens took the comment at face value. "Why, thank you. I always knew that I could make the rank. Well, maybe we'll see each other again." He walked off. 

Apollo turned back to his companion, a cold fire burning in his eyes. Baker moved to get up. "Hey, Tom, I'm sorry. I don't mean to scare you off." 

Baker snickered. "Scare me off? Hell, no. I'm just going to check with the environmental section." 

"What for?" 

"Something must be wrong with the controls. I could swear it's ten degrees colder in here." 

Apollo laughed. "I admit, there's no love lost between him and me. He used to be the first officer on the _Merrimac_ when I was in Security. He's also a two-faced bastard who won't think twice about stepping on toes, or anything else, to get what he wants." 

Baker's eyes went wide. "You were the one who exposed the Merrimac Scandal? My God, no wonder he acted like he was sizing up a potential enemy." 

Apollo smirked. "Yeah. If a potential enemy is how he thinks of me, then he's better off. Back then, I was surprised that I even had a leg to stand on. I was only a lieutenant fresh from the Academy. Now that I have more clout, well, let's just say he'd better watch his step." Then it hit Apollo. "The Merrimac Scandal, eh? Is that what they're calling it these days?" 

Baker nodded. "You really set a precedent that day. You showed Starfleet that it doesn't matter what rank you are. The only thing that keeps you from reporting any wrongdoing is your own fear; and it's a fear wrongly placed. They even have a section in the Command Course at the Academy about showing those cadets how to stand firm in the face of authority." Apollo smiled, and Baker realized something else. "A security guard. No wonder you knew what to do at that investigation site. Hell, I never knew that starship security even lived long enough to make it to captain." 

Apollo shrugged. "Someone had to. Otherwise, how would you be represented in the brass?" Baker chuckled in agreement, and Apollo stood up. "Well, I have to get going with this investigation. Thanks for the ear." 

Baker waved. "Hey, no problem." 

Apollo was halfway to the Security offices when the alarm went off. He rushed to the nearest companel. "Racer here. What's going on?" 

"Trouble over by _Firestone_'s boarding area, sir," said the voice on the com. 

"I'm on my way. Racer out." He headed toward the ship as quickly as possible. 

When he got there, Stevens was there with a group of security. "I heard the alert, and when I started past this area, I saw some men try to bust their way in. I think the alert scared them off." 

Apollo motioned the men aside as he reached the door and examined the controls. "Well, they didn't make it inside. Everything seems to be secure." 

At that point, Sheffield showed up. "What's going on here? Racer?" 

Apollo looked at the admiral. "Captain Stevens said some men were trying to gain access to the _Firestone_, but were scared off." 

Sheffield looked a little puzzled, but didn't explain why. "We'd better make sure that everything's all right." He stepped up to the door and punched in an access code. The door opened. "Let's go." 

They all traveled through the umbilical to the ship. "Everything seems all right." Sheffield said. 

Apollo noticed that the admiral seemed distracted. "Sir, are you okay. What's wrong?" 

He shook his head. "I don't know. There's something not right here." He headed to the nearest computer access. "Computer, excluding myself, Captain Racer, and the party we brought on board with us, is there any unauthorized personnel on the ship at this time." 

"Negative. Only maintenance personnel are on board, excluding your party," was the computer's reply. 

"Good. Now..." The admiral stopped in mid-sentence and snapped his fingers. "That's what doesn't fit." He turned to face Stevens. Apollo followed his motion. "This man isn't a captain. He isn't even with Starfleet anymore. He was drummed out shortly after the Merrimac Scandal." 

Instantly, the guards' weapons came to bear on the two officers. Stevens grinned evilly. "You always were a smart one." His arm came up, revealing a weapon unlike any Apollo had seen before. He suddenly realized that he was facing the man who murdered the two guards in the corridor. Before he could act, Stevens pressed the trigger. A muffled blast issued forth, and Sheffield was flung against the bulkhead. Apollo knew that the bullet's properties didn't have to work in this case. Sheffield was dead before he hit the floor. 

The gun was now trained on him. "You always did show up at the wrong moments, Racer. Should have left Starfleet when you had the chance." 

"What do you need the _Firestone_ for?" Apollo pierced Stevens with a glare. 

Stevens didn't react. Apparently, his soul was left behind on the _Merrimac_ years ago. "You just wouldn't understand, would you, Racer? No, I'm sure you wouldn't. You have too much of a sense of honor and duty." He spat those words out as though they were forbidden. "I'll spell it out for you." He started slowly circling Apollo. "There are rumors in Starfleet that tensions are actually starting to ease up between the Federation and the Klingons. I think that it's just a ploy on the Klingons' part to soften up the Federation for conquest. I intend to show them that we still have teeth, and are not afraid to use them." 

Apollo slowly turned so he could face Stevens again. "Still showing your true colors, eh? Starfleet never intended to allow the Klingons to get away with anything. What makes you think you're the deciding factor in all this? Or is this your ego still getting in the way of your judgment?" 

Before he knew it, Stevens was in front of him. He gave Apollo a left cross that rocked his head back. Apollo, however, kept firmly on his feet. He continued to give Stevens a cold glare. 

"You always get in the way, don't you? Ever since I met you, you've spoiled any goals I had set in Starfleet. I strived to make the galaxy safe for mankind." He chuckled, a little maniacally, in Apollo's opinion. He started circling again. "You know, I really ought to thank you for getting me kicked out of Starfleet. I've realized that I now have more freedom to do what I can than I did when this uniform meant something. There's just one problem. I always hated something about you back then. I couldn't do anything about it then. But I sure can now." 

At the same time he realized what Stevens was saying, he heard the report of the gun, just as he felt something slam into his back. He pitched forward to the floor. Stevens casually walked over and pushed Apollo over with his boot, so he could see his face. "If you'll excuse me now, I'm going to take your ship here, and do what the Federation should have done a long time ago." Apollo was just starting to see his vision fog over. The last thing he heard was Stevens barking an order to his men. "Get that trash off my ship. Leave him in the corridor, as an example to everyone." Just as his vision started failing, his hearing also diminished. He struggled to maintain consciousness, but it was a vain struggle. He silently screamed in his mind as everything faded to black. 


	16. Origins Chapter Sixteen

_CHAPTER SIXTEEN_

They found Apollo lying in the corridor, in a dark blue pool of blood. He was rushed to the medical bay, where they were surprised to find him still alive. Brackett worked feverishly to stabilize the wound. "I can't do much more here. He was shot with a spiderweb bullet. I afraid it's only a matter of time." He lowered his head in frustration. "His physiology is only superficially human. I don't even know how his blood can be blue. He has an extraordinary healing factor which has helped with the wound itself, but..." He stepped back, sorrow on his face that he couldn't help his patient. 

The captain's eyes were very dim, the tendrils blocking a large portion of the blue light coming from his eyes. As he twitched and convulsed in pain, they placed a forcefield around him. Finally the fibers got so thick that the light in Apollo's eyes finally died, and he stopped convulsing. 

Brackett turned to Commodore Black. "I'm sorry... that's it. I'm recording the time of death at..." 

"NnngggyyyYYYAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!" 

The two men whipped around at the blood-curdling roar. Apollo's back was sharply arched. He strained with all his might at the restraints. Suddenly, twin cobalt beams shot from his eyes, stopping at the forcefield. Every muscle showed the man in pure agony. Apollo himself felt as if he'd been thrown into the sun. Every cell was on fire. The fibers which had covered his eyes were blown out in the initial blast. They tried to reform, but the constant outpouring of energy kept burning them away. 

Brackett turned to the wall and manipulated the controls. The forcefield flared as it was increased to its maximum intensity and fought to keep Apollo's energy beams contained. At intermittent moments, his beams would break through, causing ugly black scars on the ceiling. Just as he stopped firing, the field collapsed. Brackett immediately moved to restrain Apollo by himself. Suddenly, Apollo himself flared a bright blue, and Brackett was flung across the room. He got up, rubbing his back. "My God! The man's got his own forcefield around him!" 

"What?" Black looked at Apollo, unconvinced. He intended to walk up to Apollo, stopping just short of where Brackett was forced back. But the blue field around Apollo flared, and Black wound up where Brackett fell. He repeated Brackett's moves, getting up and rubbing his back. "How in the hell is he able to do that?" 

"I don't know." Brackett dazedly went over to the wall monitor. "This is even more interesting. There's no longer any evidence of a bullet. Its material was used up when the tendrils kept trying to reach his brain. The fibers are still trying to grow, but if this keeps up, within the next half hour, they'll be gone... his defenses will have completely vaporized them." 

So they stayed put and waited. Within the next thirty minutes, Apollo's eyes cleared the fibers a few more times. But at the doctor's predicted time, Apollo stopped shooting all together. The blue field dimmed to nothingness, and he settled onto the bed. 

Black stepped forward. "Is he..." 

"One moment." Brackett looked at the monitor, then approached the still form. No force field threatened to shove him backward. Once upon the body, he gave it a cursory examination. Breathing a sigh of relief, he declared, "No. He's still alive. Just resting. After what he just went through, I wouldn't be surprised." 

Black put a hand on his head. "With what he just went through, I'm amazed that he's still alive. I thought anyone who was shot by a spiderweb gun was as good as dead." 

Brackett returned once again to the wall and began a more through exam. His eyes widened. "Apparently... our good captain here is a little better than that." He turned to face Black. "There is absolutely no trace of the bullet in his system. Even the fibers are gone, vaporized out of existence." He continued his exam. "Even the wound that the bullet made is all but healed." 

Black snorted. "Well, whatever you did, it was a good job." 

"That's just it. I didn't do anything. He did this without my aid." 

"You're saying Racer just up and healed himself? At this accelerated rate?" 

Brackett just nodded. "By all rights, he should be confined to this bed for three weeks, if not placed in the morgue. But according to these readings, I wouldn't be surprised if he were up and around within the next couple of hours. Remarkable." 

Black then turned his attention to the other still form in the infirmary, the one covered by a silver sheet. "It's a shame we couldn't say the same for the admiral." 

The doctor sighed. "Yes, it is. My staff said he was dead upon his arrival. There was nothing we could do." 

Black looked at Apollo. "Maybe he could." 

"What. You think just because he kept himself from death that he can bring others back from it? Do you realize what you're saying? He'd pretty much have to be God to do that." 

"We'll see," was all Black could say in response. 

~ * ~ 

When Apollo came to, it was with the most ear-splitting headache he had ever had. Cradling his head in one hand, he slowly sat up, bracing himself on the bed with the other one. He groaned. "Ohhhh... could someone please find somewhere else to park the shuttlecraft?" 

Something pressed against his neck, and he heard a hypospray go off. "There... that should help the pain some." 

The pain almost immediately faded to a very dull throb. He looked up at who just talked to him, and saw a middle-aged man smiling, almost chuckling, at him. "What's so funny?" he asked groggily. 

The man shook his head. "Nothing much... just thinking that you're able to destroy a foreign object in your body that would definitely have caused death in any normal person, without any medical aid, yet you can't seem to get rid of a simple headache." 

"Hey, you try getting rid of something that wants to wrap your brain in a bear hug, and see how you fare." 

The doctor shrugged. "Not so well, I would gather." 

Apollo nodded absently. Then he remembered someone else. "Admiral Sheffield..." 

Brackett looked at the floor. "I'm sorry... he was dead before we got to him. From what I found, he was a lot luckier than you. He died before the tendrils ever had a chance to work." He thought about what Black had said. "I don't suppose you could..." He purposely let his sentence hang. 

Apollo looked at him, piercing him with those twin blue suns. He thought for a moment, searching within himself. "No... no, for all that I apparently can do, raising the dead is not within my power. Unfortunately." 

Brackett laid a hand on Apollo's shoulder. "I understand. Death is still an inevitable certainty." He sighed. "Perhaps you should get some rest." 

In answer, Apollo got to his feet. The headache had disappeared completely. "No, I've rested enough. I've a killer to catch." He left the infirmary, heading for the commodore's office. 

Black was there, going over investigation plans with the security chief when Apollo strode in. Baker's eyes went wide, as if seeing a ghost. Black simply gave a slight smile. Brackett's estimate was right on the money. "Welcome back from the dead, Captain." 

Apollo cocked his head. "That statement is illogical... I was never dead." Before Black could complain about his blasted Vulcan training, he turned to the chief. "What happened to Stevens?" 

The chief never missed a beat. "He took off in the _Firestone_. We couldn't stop him. He disabled a ship, the _USS Jocasta_, on the way out. From the reports we're getting, casualties were light, but the _Jocasta_ isn't going anywhere for a while." 

"What about other ships?" 

Black coughed. "The _Jocasta_ was the strongest ship here. The others weren't going to risk the same fate or worse." 

Apollo nodded in acknowledgment. "Commodore, I don't know if I'm overstepping my bounds, but I'm wondering if you have a ship for me." 

Black looked at Apollo for a moment, then smiled. "I understand. You want to go after Stevens. I'm sorry, I don't have anything for you at the moment. "But..." he added before Apollo could protest, "I sent word to Starfleet. They said they had a good idea of what you need. A ship should be here within the week. Until that time, no matter how hard it seems, I suggest you relax. Hell, after your ordeal, I'd almost order it. Now, get out of my office. I don't want to see you here again until I call for you. Is that clear?" 

He could see Apollo's rational side warring with his emotions. However, he was pleased with his response. "Yes, sir," was all he said, and he whirled around in a perfect military turn and left the office. 

Apollo was fuming. He didn't like not having anything to do. Then his mind played back the chief's report and remembered that he said a ship had been disabled. Black's comment suggested it was here at the starbase. Perhaps there was something there that could keep him busy. Filled with a sense of purpose, he used a terminal to locate the ship's position and strode off in that direction. 

Sure enough, when he approached the area, he noticed that the loading bay was converted into a triage area. Gratefully, he saw very few people in the black area, covered by sheets. _Good,_ he thought, _not too many dead._ It was always sad to see death this way, but he was relieved that he could count the number of dead on one hand. 

The red area, for real serious injuries, was also uncrowded. He asked a medic, who told him that the majority of them had already been moved to the medical bay. The ones that were there were being stabilized for transport. They suggested that the captain move to the yellow area. Apollo took the man's suggestion. 

He moved through the yellow area... though he had little medical training, he helped those who needed it by offering them comfort. Just the fact that a captain other than their own was among them seemed to lift their spirits. He sought out the ship's own captain, who gave Apollo a brief report on what had happened. They were on their way to Starbase 47 for resupply and to deliver crew who were going to some new ship when they received a report that a ship had started leaving without authorization. His ship put up a brave but feeble attempt to stop the other ship. Predictably, the battle cruiser swatted his ship aside and continued on its way. His ship was forced to complete the journey on one half impulse. Fortunately, that only meant an extra couple of hours or so. The only people they lost, Apollo had seen in the black area; they had died before the ship reached the starbase, easing Apollo's sense that he should have done something, but it didn't take it away completely. Apollo knew that if he could have stopped Stevens in the first place, none of this would have happened. The other captain saw the guilt on Apollo's face, but couldn't offer any relief. Apollo thanked the captain for the information and moved on. 

While he spent his time there, he found officers from the _Oberth_. They were just on their way out when they received the call for aid. He met his CMO, who assured him that things were well in hand. With a pat on the back, Apollo kept moving. 

He was on the edge of the triage area, overlooking the whole process, when something compelled him to look in the corner next to one of the huge observation viewports. A woman was leaning against a viewport, gazing out into space. Her left arm was in a sling. Something looked familiar about the her. She straightened, as though she knew she was being watched, and was about to look in his direction when a hand rested on his shoulder. 

He whipped around; it was Commodore Black. He didn't look too happy that his order to relax wasn't followed. "Thought you might be here. C'mon, your ship has arrived." 

Apollo was puzzled. "My ship? I thought it was going to take longer than this." 

The commodore shrugged. "I was wrong. Let's go." They headed away from the triage area; the idea of a ship waiting for Apollo chasing all other thoughts from his mind. 

~ * ~ 

"Captain Bellingham at your service." The bright-mannered man with an English accent shook Apollo's hand. 

Black filled Apollo in. "Captain, Captain Bellingham is in command of the _Valiant_, one of our new _Enterprise_-class vessels." 

Apollo looked askance at Black. "_Enterprise_-class? I don't understand." 

Bellingham spoke up. "The _Enterprise_ was the first and only _Constitution_-class ship to be refitted. It seemed only fitting that any subsequent ship of that class built with the same design would be classified as an _Enterprise_-class ship. Therefore, your ship is of that class." 

"Mine?" 

Bellingham chuckled. "It is with great privilege to say that I'll be handing the ship over to you. Granted, I'll hate to leave the bird; she pulled my bum out of the blaze on more than one occasion. But I'm relieved that she'll be given over to capable hands." 

Black smiled. "The formal ceremony won't take place for three days. The ship needs to be... how would you say it... 'topped off.' She doesn't really need a resupply, but we'd like to perform the change-of-command ceremony with a fully prepared ship, especially consdiering what your first mission will most likely be." He looked a little chagrined. "It's not the _Firestone_..." 

"I don't want the _Firestone_, remember? No, right now, any ship will be just fine. I would have even taken the _Oberth_ back if possible." 

"I don't doubt it," Bellingham said. "Well, until the ceremony, then. Gentlemen." The captain excused himself and walked away. 

Apollo looked a little smug. "The _Valiant_, eh?" 

Black mirrored Apollo's expression. "She's a fine ship." 

"Then why is Bellingham giving her up?" 

Black smiled as they turned to head down the corridor. "Captain Bellingham is on the last leg of his tour. In a few years, he's going to retire. He's the one who will take over the _Oberth_. The man wanted a relatively quiet place to end his service, And yet his career won't putz out behind a desk. Everyone's satisfied." He noticed Apollo's bewildered expression. "Don't worry... you will like the _Valiant_. I've seen her record. She'll make you proud." 

Apollo corrected him. "It won't be the ship that'll make me proud, it'll be her crew. The crew makes all the difference." 


	17. Origins Chapter Seventeen

_CHAPTER SEVENTEEN_

Apollo's shuttle approached the _Valiant_'s shuttle bay. He felt that if he were going to command the ship, he wanted to view her from the outside. Traveling by transporter was fine, but it took away some of the majesty of traveling through space. What good was boarding a ship if you didn't inspect her lines? It was just Apollo's way of carrying on tradition, although these days, instead of checking for seaworthiness, it was spaceworthiness. 

His shuttle landed, and he stepped out. He looked toward the gaping maw he just entered and silently praised the inventor of the atmospheric force field. He turned toward the exit into the ship and was met by a familiar face. "Thelem! Good to see you, old friend!" 

"Welcome aboard, Captain," responded the Andorian. "We've been expecting you." 

Apollo recalled when they arrived at the starbase that Thelem was slated to transfer to the _Jocasta_. Apparently, he found another assignment. "I should hope so. Are we set to go yet?" 

"One thing I've learned from your people is that the application of patience makes the forthcoming experience sweeter. You would do well to exhibit some of that patience now." The statement surprised Apollo. Andorians are a race of warriors, who favored the tactic of shooting first and asking questions later. To hear this one talk of waiting for something brought a smile to his lips. "Besides, we have not received our full crew yet. Some of the crew aboard the disabled ship were replacements; you were supposed to select from the personnel as crew for the _Firestone_. The remainder would switch off with people from this ship and the _Oberth_. They have yet to be cleared by the medical staff." 

"Well, I didn't take the _Firestone_, did I?" the captain said in an in-your-face tone. 

"Unfortunately." The sarcasm was evident in Thelem's voice. "Then I would command either ship remaining." 

"Sorry to hold back your career." Those who served with these two on the _Oberth_ knew that this bickering was just show, and that they were actually good friends. Apollo nodded. "I take it then that they'll be... straggling on as the situation permits." 

"You could say that," Thelem said. 

As if on cue, the comlink in the shuttle bay's control room beeped. Apollo strode over and answered it. "Racer." 

"_Welcome aboard, sir_." A bouncy female voice prattled over the speaker. "_Transporter Chief Robinson here. Your first batch of crew replacements are ready to beam aboard_." 

"I'm on my way." Apollo shut down the comlink and left the bay with Thelem in tow. 

They made their way to the main transporter room in silent anticipation. They arrived just as Robinson initiated the transport sequence. the six pads lit up, columns of shimmering blue light appeared over them, and humanoid forms sparkled into existence. He greeted them and Thelem showed them to their quarters. While Thelem was gone, Apollo got to know Robinson a little better. He found her to be a very friendly person. As she was probably the first person someone saw when they beamed aboard, Apollo decided that she was just the right person for the job. 

Thelem returned to the transporter room. "Captain, transporter rooms two and four are also participating in crew beam ups. This won't take long." 

Robinson chimed in. "In fact, I'm getting confirmation that I'll only get two people this time. They're the last ones for today." 

"Today?" Apollo questioned. 

"Yes sir. Medical projects that our crew won't be fully aboard until the end of the week." 

Thelem leaned over to his captain. "You know, sir, you don't have to stay and greet people. Such a menial task is why they created the first officer's position." 

Apollo mocked a startled look. "Bite your tongue. I'd like to meet my crew. I don't mind welcoming them aboard." 

Thelem stuck his tongue out and felt it, as if seriously considering the captain's suggestion. Seeing the look on his face made him realize that it was just a figure of speech. "I'm sure you will have plenty of opportunity to meet them before we get under way. Besides, how do you propose to be in every transporter room at the same time?" 

Apollo thought about that, without much hope for an answer. "I see your point." 

Robinson sighed. "They're waiting, sir." 

Realizing his faux pas, Apollo got back to the task at hand. "Oh... yes, right. Energize." 

The transporter activated again. Two figures formed. Apollo didn't see the first person step off the pad. He was staring at the second one, realizing that he was looking at a dream. She was wearing a sling on her left arm, and Apollo made the connection; she was the one he saw on the starbase, at the triage scene, staring out the viewport. Without any regard to protocol, he rushed up and scooped Samantha into his arms. At that point, time seemed to stop. He gazed into her tear-brimmed eyes, moving in to kiss her. 

"I take it you two know each other." 

Thelem's comment brought both of them back to the present. Apollo looked at the room's other occupants. Thelem was smiling; The officer who arrived with Sam was staring at them nervously. Robinson's face was turning a deep shade of crimson; she turned her head, smiling in an embarrassed fashion. 

Apollo cleared his throat. "Uh, ahem, Thelem. This is..." he looked at Sam's shoulder, "Commander Taylor. She is... uh... that is, she..." He was looking at her, puzzled. 

"Your new science officer, reporting for duty, sir," Sam said, bailing him out. The look on her face told him that she was thoroughly enjoying this. 

"Ob, da, yes. Well, Thelem, looks like you won't have to double for me on this ship." He turned to Sam to explain. "Thelem was both my science officer and first officer on the _Oberth_." 

"I see. Well, Captain, I appreciate the warm welcome. But according to doctor's orders, I was supposed to rest after coming aboard, so if I could be shown to my quarters." 

Instantly, Apollo's bearing snapped back into place. "Indeed." He stepped down and shook the other officer's hand. "Sorry about that. Didn't want you to think I was neglecting you." 

"Tha-that's okay, sir. Lieutenant Gerard reporting." he said. He was obviously still baffled by the scene which played out before him. 

"If you two won't mind, Commander Thelem will show you your quarters. And if the doctor said rest, then I expect you to do so. No roaming the ship." This was directed toward Sam. But she gave no quarrel, and the three of them left the room. Apollo leaned against the transporter console and wiped his brow. He then realized he wasn't alone, and turned toward Robinson. Her face was still working on getting rid of her blush. The captain's attention back on her, it returned full force. Apollo straightened himself and marched out of the room. Just before the doors could close he stopped and looked back at Robinson. After a moment, he smiled exuberantly, and allowed the doors to close, where she could finally indulge in some good-natured giggling. 

~ * ~ 

"Captain on the bridge." 

Apollo stepped out of the turbolift. He waved them all back to what they were doing. "All right, knock it off. Captain's standing order: next person who says that in my presence again gets flushed out an airlock in their skivvies." 

He was joking, but his meaning was clear. His bridge crew kept the response to a brief chuckle. He looked around the bridge at his crew. Thelem was standing near the command chair. _They should have a seat for him, too_, he thought. _Perhaps next to the captain. Maybe in my next report to Starfleet, I'll mention it_. Sam was at the science station, performing a diagnostic on the systems. He then noticed his communications officer, M'ress, and Arex, his helmsman. He recalled in reviewing their records that they had served aboard the _Enterprise_ shortly before the end of her first five-year mission, before her major refit. M'ress was a Caitian; her felinoid features were all too obvious. He had served with Caitians before, and was glad to have her. He noted with a smile that her tail twitched lazily back and forth, showing her contentment with her task. 

He then turned his attention toward Arex. He had never seen an Edoan before, let alone served with one. He nodded with approval that the quartermaster had altered his chair accordingly. Humanoids could still sit in it with comfort, but the seat was more of a U-shape, to accommodate Arex's third leg. Arex noticed Apollo studying him. He turned his head and, while doing a system's check with two hands, saluted him with a third. Apollo winked and walked toward his seat. 

His navigator, Ensign Turner, whirled around in his seat. "Sir, navigation systems check out just fine, _sir_." 

Apollo looked toward Thelem, who rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. They were going to have to work on Turner's overenthusiasm; if it was anything that rubbed Apollo the wrong way, it was a brown-noser. "That's... just fine, Ensign. Carry on," he said, patronizing the eager young officer. 

He made a final scan of his bridge. He then hit the com control on his chair arm. "Engineering, how's it look down there?" 

"_Commander McCormick here, sir. Everythin' down here is just bonny, Cap'n_." The voice on the other end had an unmistakable accent of a Scot. 

The captain smiled. "Very good, Mr.McCormick." He switched off, then turned back to Thelem. "Well, I think we're ready to get under way. Mr. M'ress, contact starbase, request clearance to depart." 

"Aye, sir." She turned to her board. A moment later, she said, "Captain, starbase gives us clearance to depart. They tell us good luck and Godspeed." 

"Thank them. Helm, reverse thrusters. Take us away." He felt a slight shift as the ship moved. "Set a course to 239 mark 70." 

Turner responded smartly, repeating the course heading. The _Valiant_ swung gracefully around to the prescribed heading. "Reading a heading of 239 mark 70, sir." 

Apollo nodded. "Mr. Arex. Ahead one-half impulse. When we reach the edge of the system, go to warp three." The Edoan acknowledged the order. Apollo waited until he could watch the transition to warp speed; then he headed for the turbo lift. "M'ress, let my senior staff know that I'd like a meeting with them in the conference room in half an hour." 

He stepped in the lift. It was about to close when a hand came between the doors. They reopened, and Sam came in. "Deck eight," Apollo called out. The lift started to move. 

"Hold lift." It stopped in transit. Apollo looked at her quizzically. She turned to face him. "Well, Captain, you seem to fit the part quite well. I'm glad you reached your goal." 

Apollo could sense something wrong. Her comment should have made him feel good, yet there was an edge to her tone that made him feel uncomfortable. He decided to take it at face value. "Thank you, Commander." He tried to follow up with something, but couldn't, and the silence made things more awkward. "I'm assuming that since you stopped the lift, you have something you wish to say to me privately." 

"Oh, I'm just wondering why I didn't find out you made captain until I saw you in the transporter room." 

"I don't understand." Apollo had an idea where this was going, but he let the cards play themselves out. 

"Why didn't you contact me sooner? Why didn't you try to get assigned with me? And what the hell happened to you?" She moved from side to side, studying him. "You're so... different." As she spoke, the discomfort he sensed became more clear as her anger grew. 

"I tried getting in touch with you. As time progressed, your messages became more... formal, distant. Then I wasn't getting any messages all together. I heard about the _Lexington_, and I was afraid..." 

"By the time of _Lexington_'s destruction, I had been halfway into my tour on another vessel. And I had been writing frequently, and some of them certainly weren't formal. What's your excuse?" 

Apollo was about to respond when it hit him that on his past ships, he never personally received any messages. They were handed to him from another crew member. He seethed in anger at the realization that his mail had been tampered with. By the time the messages stopped, he was on the _Excalibur_, but the damage had been done. "Would you believe me if I said I was a victim of circumstance? My first two assignments weren't too... friendly. By the time I reached Skip's ship, I lost contact completely with you." He paused. "As for what happened to me, that's going to take a little time, and right now, I don't have it." He could tell she was skeptical, but he couldn't help her now. "Lift, resume." 

They continued to their destination. He gripped her shoulders. She didn't move away, but she didn't relax, either. "I know it's been hard, but trust me, I _will_ tell you everything. Right now, all I ask is that you don't let your personal feelings for me, whatever they may be at this time, to get in the way of our mission. Can I expect that much from you?" 

She looked at him hard, then slowly nodded. "Yes, sir." He accepted that for now. Just before the lift stopped, she told him, "By the way. I like what you did to your eyes." The doors opened and she stepped out. His friends who knew him before the _Excalibur_ always said that upon meeting him again. _Just one more thing to explain_, he sighed. 

~ * ~ 

Thirty minutes later, Apollo strode through the door to the conference room. His senior staff were already there, patiently waiting. He smiled at their punctuality, and headed toward his position, at the head of the table; he didn't sit down, though. "Greetings," he started out, making eye contact with everyone there. "Some of you already know me from serving with me in the past. Some of you haven't served with me at all. Those of you who knew me before I served on the _Excalibur_, let me just get this out of the way now. This," he waved his hand in front of his eyes, "is not artificial. These are my real eyes. If they cause you some discomfort, I apologize. It's not something I can turn on and off. Deal with it. Those of you who want to know more about it, I hold an open door policy; if I'm not doing anything important at the time, I'll be happy to tell you all about it. Later. 

"That's not the reason I called you here, though." He paused and was a little disappointed. Were he on one of his previous ships, someone would have made some type of crack. The room here remained silent. "Our first mission sounds simpler than it really is." He sat down, hitting a few controls in front of him as he did so. An image of the _Firestone_ sprang into existence a foot and a half above the table. The hologram slowly rotated on all axes so everyone could get a complete view of it. "We have to find this ship. She's the _USS Firestone_, and let me assure you, she's the most powerful ship that Starfleet has constructed. But she's far from invulnerable. About five years ago, Starfleet attempted to build a dreadnought. This battle cruiser is the second generation of their attempt. Those of you who have read those specs would know its capabilities: trinary-shielding, honeycomb superstructure support, with a hull made of a new substance, designed to absorb and distribute energy more efficiently than any ship we've got." 

McCormick partially raised a hand. "Beggin' yer pardon fer interruptin', sir, but I happened to have read the specs on the _Firestone_. 'Efficient' would not be a word I'd use for that behemoth." 

"You're right, Mr. McCormick. Don't let this third nacelle fool you. This ship can't go that much faster than ours. It's basically a power supply for their upgraded weapons and shielding. Without it, they wouldn't be able to afford the power curve for them; their phasers would never be able to fire at full capacity. Now, as difficult as it sounds, our mission is not to destroy the ship, merely disable it; Starfleet doesn't want to lose its prototype. 

"As McCormick revealed, you all should have received a file of the specs. Any insight you might have to help out our mission, no matter how insignificant you think it would be, will be greatly appreciated." 

He waited to give anyone who wanted to say something a chance to say it. When he got back nothing but silence, he stood up. "Those of you who don't work on the bridge, I shall visit your departments soon for a more proper introduction. Dismissed." He watched them as they filed out. Before Sam went out the door, she turned and caught his eye. Something told Apollo that she would be the first person to see him about some explanations. 

~ * ~ 

He had returned to the bridge for the rest of his shift. There was basically nothing for him to do. He sat back and closed his eyes, listening to the running of the ship: the movements and conversations of the crew as they walked from station to station or in and out of the turbolift; the various electronic noises everyone's consoles made; or most especially, the thrumming of power that traveled through the ship, causing the deckplates under his feet to vibrate. Occasionally, he would glance at the science station, but if Sam saw him, she took no note; she kept busy at her post, whether because of normal duties or as a way of avoiding contact with him was unknown to him. 

When the end of his shift came, he was relieved by Thelem; he then headed off the bridge to make his rounds. He started at Engineering, getting more acquainted with McCormick, or Mac, to his friends. He was a cheerful soul who loved his engines and enjoyed friendly conversation. He reminded Apollo off Mr. Scott, Kirk's engineer, and he wondered further if these traits were typical for Scotsman. The ones he had met so far had all been born engineers and very social. If everything went true, this man also had a phenomenal temper, but since things were running like clockwork in the bowels of his ship, he doubted that he'd witness this temper. 

He continued up through the ship. When he reached Sickbay, he met his CMO, Sorel. "Greetings, doctor." He raised his hand in a split-fingered salute, his common practice for any contact with a Vulcan. "I trust that everything here is to your preferences." 

If Vulcans smiled, Sorel would have done so. Honor clearly showed in his expression. "Thank you, Captain. Everything is indeed satisfactory." 

After a second of silence, Apollo gave Sorel a sideways glance. "This is the first time you've served aboard a starship." 

Sorel raised an eyebrow. "You are very perceptive. Before the _Valiant_, I was a healer at the Vulcan Science Academy. I worked there with Dr. Daniel Corrigan. Remarkably, I am here at Starfleet's request." 

Apollo did Sorel one better, raising both eyebrows. "Starfleet recommended you? This is indeed an honor for both of us." Thinking back, Apollo recalled reading sometime while at the Academy that Kirk had been on Vulcan, solving a murder. He remembered Sorel's name being mentioned in the article. "Is Dr. Corrigan here as well?" 

"Unfortunately, no. Dr. Corrigan died 1.7 years ago." 

"Oh. My grievances go with you." Another memory hit Apollo, and he wasn't fast enough to keep a smile from creeping on his face. "The last time I was in the presence of a Vulcan medical officer aboard a ship, it was on the science vessel Surak. His name was Selek." 

Sorel nodded. "He now teaches medicine at the Science Academy. A very honorable man. It was under his tutelage that I received my training." 

"You had a very good teacher." 

Then it hit Sorel. "You are the one; the one he spoke of." 

Apollo was thrown. "Excuse me?" 

"There is one story that Selek was quite fond of telling. He told it to each of his classes, of the time he was assigned to the _Surak_; they had rescued a ship that was frozen. The human pilot was in a state of cryogenic stasis, having apparently been so for two centuries." He pointed at Apollo in reverence. "You are that pilot." 

The captain shrugged. "Small galaxy." 

He could have sworn that Sorel had just bowed, though anyone else would have simply perceived the doctor as merely nodding his head. "I had always been interested in the fate of that pilot. It is indeed a privilege to be in your service." 

Apollo wanted to clap Sorel on the shoulder, but he naturally refrained from doing so. "Thank you. Knowing you're here bolsters my confidence in the medical staff." 

As he headed for the door, Sorel said to him. "I shall see you soon, as you probably already know, since your physical examination is due." 

Apollo merely glanced behind him, then continued out the door. _Doctors_, he thought in frustration, _they're all the same. They want to be friendly, but at the same time, they want to poke you and prod you in experiments they mask as routine examinations._ Due to his rare situation, Apollo had more reasons than others to have something against doctors, as well as some reasons to trust them implicitly. Still, it felt good to have a Vulcan on board. 

He was so deep in thought that he didn't see someone coming around the bend. Sam ran into him full tilt and wound up sitting on the deck. Apollo merely looked down at her and raised an eyebrow. "Where's the fire, Commander?" He proffered a hand to help her up, which she gracefully took. 

"I, uh, I was looking for you, Captain. Thelem told me that you usually take a stroll through the ship when your shift ends. Then I remembered you said you were going to the departments for more informal introductions." 

He smiled. "What's on your mind?" 

"I wanted to take you up on your offer. For a further explanation. Sir." She had said the last word with a slight smile. 

Apollo simply shook his head, still grinning. "You know, I had a hunch you would be the first, though I'm sure the doctor will be next. He reminded me of an exam I have due." 

"You always hated exams," she said coyly. 

"I always felt that I had too many of them. They could have found something else to do." He jerked his head in his direction. "Walk with me." As he continued, she slipped beside him, reminding him of the times they always took walks at the Academy. They both allowed silence to dominate for a while, then he said, "It's been a while." 

"Hmm? Since what?" she asked. 

"Since we've taken a walk together," he said quietly. 

She nodded. "Mmm-hm. This is nice." She had noticed they moved back down through the ship. When he guided her through a door, she wasn't surprised to find herself in the arboretum. 

He answered her unspoken question. "I always found it more comfortable to be here when I talk about unofficial matters." 

She nodded. "It certainly looks appropriate." When they reached the floor-to-ceiling viewports looking out to the stars, streaking by at warp speed, they stopped and she turned to him. "So, I assume the titles can be dropped here." He nodded. "Would you mind telling me now what happened to your eyes?" 

He led her to a nearby bench and they sat down. He started at the beginning, with his time aboard the _Merrimac_, and continued from there. As far as any changes he went through, he restricted that information to obvious physical changes, such as his eyes and the rest of his unique physiology. He felt it wasn't the right time to tell anyone about what else he could do, but he did tell her that as far as the skills he possessed since the Academy, he still had them. 

Sam drank all of it in, slightly overwhelmed. "So, your saying that you're not a cyborg anymore, but rather something all together different." 

He nodded. "If anything, I guess you could say that the whole has become more than the sum of the parts." He paused. "Are you okay with that?" 

She got up and slowly walked to the viewport, putting her hand on the cool metal. "I don't know. I could deal with you as a cyborg, but now..." she turned to face him. "Now you're completely different. Hell, I don't know if you even can be considered human anymore." 

For some reason, that statement hit home. He got up and went over to her. Taking her by the shoulders, he asked her to look at him. She did, finding it not at all difficult to stare into his eyes. "I told you years ago that as long as my heart remained whole, I'll always be human." 

"So, are you?" 

It was a simple question, one to which demanded a simple answer. He moved his face closer to hers. When he kissed her, a wave of emotion, long shut away by distance and inaccessibility, suddenly washed over him in a flood. They both melted in each other's arms; it was obvious that this contact was what they needed. They had been apart far too long. They held each other so closely that a piece of paper couldn't fit between them. 

After what seemed like forever, they separated. They each found themselves breathing a little heavily, Sam's fingers resting on his cheeks. When they embraced again, it was in a friendly hug. "God, I've missed you, Sam," Apollo whispered. They held each other at arm's length, and Sam noticed a tear trail down Apollo's cheek. It, like his eyes, glowed, though a paler blue than its source. "I've missed you so much. I've always thought about you, wondered what you were doing, wondered if you were thinking of me. Sometimes, I think I could actually tell that you were." 

Sam felt a little giddy with this emotion. She let out a laugh that was half a gasp. "I felt the same way. I'm sorry I accused you earlier of forgetting about me. I felt guilty as soon as I had said it... I should have known that you were never the type to do that." She traced her foot across the floor, again acting coy. "Do you... suppose we could pick up where we left off?" 

"No, too much time has passed." His expression was too serious, and her breath caught in her throat, but her apprehension was without warrant. "It would be easier if we took what we had and started anew. I mean, as you can see, I'm a different person now." 

She shook her head. "No, you're the same man. Like you said, outside you may have changed, but you're still the same here." She put a finger on his chest, and traced a heart-shaped pattern there. She wanted to say something, but figured that it could be best said by reaching up and kissing him again. Giving him another hug, she said, "I'm glad we're together again." 

"So am I," he said, looking out at the stars. It was almost perfect. 

Sam could sense his mood change. "What is it?" 

He sighed. "I was thinking of Skip. He should've been here, too. This was something I wanted all of us to share." 

"Well, it's close enough," she said. 

Apollo took a step back. He studied her for a moment, then said, "You know something I don't." 

She smiled. "My, my. Always the perceptive one. All right, Captain Know-It-All, tell me what I know. And if I catch you trying to read my mind, I'll make sure you walk funny for a week." 

He grimaced at that thought, but refrained from telling her that he doesn't read minds. So he simply studied her, _God_, _she looks good in that uniform_, and spitted out, "Someone else is on board." 

"Well, I should hope so. I wouldn't think we could run the ship by ourselves." 

"Ha, ha. I meant someone we both know is on board." 

She nodded, and decided to swipe his opportunity to figure it all out. "Karen came back to Starfleet. She's in Stellar Cartography, and she also doubles as a geophysicist. So... she won't exactly have much reason to go to the bridge, but she's here." 

Apollo's face lit up with excitement. "That's wonderful! But who's watching Ethan?" 

Sam looked confused. "Ethan...? Oh, her son. She has a sister who's watching him. As soon as he's old enough, she'll send for him." 

Apollo gave her a wary look. "Define 'old enough'." He didn't much like the idea of having children aboard a ship that just might get the stuffing kicked out of it by one of their own ships, never mind Klingons or Romulans. 

"I don't know. She gave the impression that it would be soon, at least while she's here." 

"That much I figured out." He gazed out of the viewport. "Well, I'm sure she knows what she's doing. Hey, I'm hungry. You up for something to eat?" 

She thought for a second. "Now that you mention it, a bite sounds pretty good right about now." 

"Great. Let's do it." He offered his arm. 

"Okay." She took his arm, and used it as leverage to lean up and bite his neck. 

"Ow! I thought you wanted something to eat." She gave him a predatory smile. He knew how to deal with it. He reached out and grabbed her sides, tickling her until she collapsed, kicking and screaming in a fit of laughter. He could only be glad that at this time, they were the only ones in the arboretum. He would have had a hard time explaining their behavior. 

After a few minutes, he helped her up; she was gasping and holding her side. "Oh," she groaned, "I give, I give. Can we go, now?" 

"I think we can now." He again offered her his arm. She took it again, but this time she just held it, and they headed for the officer's lounge. 


	18. Origins Chapter Eighteen

_CHAPTER EIGHTEEN_

Things were going quietly at Federation Outpost 24. The station had been on Yellow Alert since the first two reports of attacks came in. Someone was making their way through the Federation, causing great unrest in their path. Commander Farber, CO of the outpost, had sent a call to the nearest starbase. FO 24 had a responsibility to watch over the mining colony on the planet Cordova below them. In a comfortable niche in the Federation, they didn't have much need for defenses. But with this increasing threat, they suddenly had to be prepared. 

The starbase commander had assured Farber that a ship had been sent to help them out. So all they had to do now was wait. 

The communications officer turned toward the commander. "Sir, we're being hailed by a ship." 

"Put them on." Farber ordered. 

The comm officer did so, and a voice piped through the Operations Center. "_Commander, this is the Starship _Messenger_. We received word that you needed aid, and well, we're here_." 

The commander let out his breath. "Thank God you're here. With all these hit-and-run raids happening, we could use the protection." 

"_Well, that's what we're here for. If you'll grant us permission, we'll dock with you_." 

Farber smiled. "Will do. Farber out." He turned toward his Ops officer. "Frank, give me a view of that ship. I want to see what Starfleet sent us." 

"Aye, sir." He turned to his station, and shortly the ship showed on the viewscreen. 

"My, she's a wonderful ship." Farber commented. She was a huge ship, _Enterprise_-class from the looks. No, something was different. The lines were graceful, but the three nacelles... three nacelles... 

Farber went into shock. "Red Alert! Get the shields up! Contact Starfleet and tell them their renegade is here!" He had suddenly remembered the picture of the ship that went with the warnings. 

The Ops officer smiled. "Shields are up. They're still outside." He looked at his board and his smile disappeared. "But we can't contact Starfleet. They're jamming us." 

Just then, the voice came over their comm systems again. "_You really shouldn't have done that_." It was such a calm tone of voice that instead of making them relax, it heightened their fear. Farber was feeling nothing but dread as lancets of blue fire erupted from the ship to hammer away at their shields. 

~ * ~ 

They had been searching for three months. During that time, Apollo had gotten well acquainted with the crew. He and Sam had once again grown as close as they were back in the Academy. When they first visited Karen in Stellar Cartography, there were plenty of hugs to go around. When Karen's shift ended, they moved to a small rec room. Tears were wept over absent friends, but basically, the tone of the night was a reunion. Karen regaled her friends with news of Ethan's progress in their absence. She told Apollo that Ethan would be thirteen when she would request for his presence on the ship. Apollo was stunned at how years went by since he had seen them together, but agreed, at Sam's playful prodding, that it would be okay at that time for him to be with his mother, but he suggested it wait at least until after they find the _Firestone_ and return it to Starfleet. 

Apollo had not quite requested, not quite ordered, the quartermaster to allow someone else to take Sam's quarters. He recalled that the quartermaster had smiled and winked. Contrary to popular belief, it wasn't that uncommon for the captain to arrange for couples to live in the same quarters on the ship; and sometimes the captain himself was part of that couple. Sam was delighted that it could be done. 

It was at the end of the third month that Apollo had another dream. He was standing at the top of what seemed to be a small mountain. Lush green fields stretched for miles, and wildlife could be seen in abundance. Suddenly, a dark plague approached from the horizon. As Apollo stood there, horrified, ugly black scars burrowed into the earth. Firestorms scoured the countryside, leaving the land scorched, fires still raging in some areas. He looked around and noticed a door to the side of a cliff, blown off its hinges. He looked down as a bloody hand grabbed his boot. The hand's owner looked up at him in despair, and a word rasped from his mutilated face. "Why?" Suddenly he knew where he was. 

Apollo's eyes flared open, flooding the darkness with a soft blue light. His sudden arousal woke Sam. Her eyes opened halfway. "Apollo, you devil. If it weren't the middle of the night, I'd..." 

Her sentence was cut off. Apollo rolled and brought his arm slamming down on the bedside table, activating the comm, and knocking the legs out from under the table. The sudden loud crack caused Sam to jump to a sitting position in shock. "Bridge, this is Racer! Change course for the Cordova system! Maximum warp!" In a second, he was on his feet. 

The lights hadn't been turned on, but Sam could see. _ I never realized his eyes were so bright_, came a detached thought from the back of her head. "Apollo, what's wrong?" She was definitely worried. When she looked at him, she noticed he was already in uniform. He didn't say a word, but he fixed her with a penetrating gaze. Even with his changes, she could remember the last time she saw him like this. "I hate it when you look that way," she said, but got up and started dressing herself. 

Three minutes later, Apollo was on the bridge, heading toward his chair. "ETA to Cordova," he barked. 

"We should be there in approximately two hours," said Commander Williams, the ship's second officer, as he relinquished command; he moved in barely enough time to keep from being bowled over by his captain. "Is there a reason for this sudden course change, sir?" 

"Call it a feeling," Apollo said with conviction. He hit the comm on his chair. "Engineering, this is the Bridge. Can you get more power to the engines?" 

"_Captain, you've got all we can give you. If you want, we can get out and push_." 

"Not advisable. Thanks anyway. Bridge out." He sat in his chair and glared at the viewscreen, almost as if he could will more speed out of the engines. 

Sam came onto the bridge. Her hair was still a little frazzled, but for the most part, she was composed. Thelem followed right behind her. He turned to her. "What brought this on?" 

She shrugged. "Sometimes he gets these feelings. But when he gets them, you can guarantee that something is going to happen." 

"Great," Thelem muttered. He then spoke up to Apollo. "Captain, what do we expect to find in the Cordova system?" 

The captain's eyes narrowed. "_Firestone_ is there." The graveyard-silent tone in his voice brought the temperature of the bridge down about fifteen degrees. M'ress even shivered, and her tail became bushy with concern. His statement also managed to squelch whatever muted conversations were taking place. He looked at Arex. "As soon as we get within sensor range, drop to impulse. We'll also be going to Red Alert." 

The younger officers looked at him in horror. They knew the _Firestone_ was abducted by terrorists, but they never actually expected to fire at another starship. Before now, the thought that they might have to was abstract, but a Red Alert drove the point home. 

Sam came down to the side of Apollo's chair. She was going to speak to him, but her voice caught in her throat. Apollo's face could have been carved from granite for as hard as it looked. His gaze burned with a cold fire, as though the viewscreen would freeze under his gaze. 

He slowly turned those eyes on to her. "Please go to your post, Commander. I need you there right now," he said softly. 

She silently obeyed, moving to the science station. Thelem was about to take her place next to Apollo, but they made eye contact, and she quickly shook her head. He decided that he would be of more use at the Tactical station. 

Over the next couple of hours, the only thing heard on the bridge were the noises the controls made, and an occasional inquiry from Apollo, asking for an update. Sam would check the sensors and give him an answer, and silence would fall again. 

Finally, Arex spoke up. "Captain, we have reached the Cordova system. Dropping out of warp; sounding Red Alert." The bridge lighting shifted to red, and a brief klaxon sounded. 

Sam immediately concentrated on her board. She was puzzled. "Captain, I'm not picking anything up from Federation Outpost 24." She continued to scan, and her puzzlement quickly became dread. "I am reading a considerable amount of debris in orbit." Her voice caught. "Some appears to have already entered the atmosphere." 

"Put it on screen." Apollo said. Instantly, a picture of a planet showed. Bright, glittering particles could be seen in one section of orbit. "Ladies and gentlemen," he said morbidly, "welcome to Federation Outpost 24." 

As they drew closer, they could more easily define the details of the wreckage. A chunk drifted by them, its only markings, "...st 24", marked a gravestone of the station. Apollo turned to Sam, "What was the complement of the station?" 

At first she didn't respond, as she was transfixed to the screen. She shook herself out of it and turned to the computer. "According to specs, the station held a crew of 215." She paused, as more information scrolled across her screen. "There were also 53 people down on the mining colony. Sir, I'm not getting any life signs from either place." 

Apollo put his hand in front of his eyes, as if he had a headache. Truthfully, he did it so he wouldn't shoot the screen in anger. "Mr. Taylor, any sign of the _Firestone_ anywhere?" 

She checked the readouts. "No, sir. Of course, the planet shields anything behind..." 

He didn't let her finish his sentence. "Arex, enter standard orbit; first trip around at high speed. I don't want anyone hiding on us." 

"Yes, sir," he complied. The _Valiant_ entered orbit at three-quarters impulse, making one complete orbit before slowing to standard speed. 

Apollo rose from the chair. "Thelem, you have the conn. Mr. Taylor, have a landing party meet me in the transporter room." 

"But, sir..." 

He whipped around to train his gaze on her. "I said... have... a landing party meet me in the transporter room. Then meet me there." He stormed into the turbolift, ending the discussion. 

~ * ~ 

The transporter deposited them onto the planet's surface. Apollo instructed the four security guards accompanying him and Sam to fan out and search the area. He already didn't like what he saw. 

From reports he had heard in the past, Cordova was a bright, green planet. Clearly Class-M, almost Earth-like, it was an ideal spot to place a mining colony. The subterranean strata held abundant supplies of ores and minerals needed for starship hulls, phaser arrays, and base matter for the replicators. There was even a small deposit of dilithium. The fact that it was deep within Federation space was the only reason why there were no disputes over the planet's affiliation. Anywhere near the Federation's borders, and either the Klingons or the Romulans, depending on the planet's location, would have given them quite a fight over it. 

Looking at the planet's surface now, Apollo doubted that anyone would want it. What was once green fields and bright flora was now blackened, scorched earth. Fires raged in random places. Giant black scars disfigured the ground. One of the guards commented. "Sir, it looks as though no one wanted us to use this planet anymore." 

Apollo nodded, then spotted something over by a rock formation. He jogged to it, followed by a couple of guards. "I don't think weapons caused all this, Lieutenant." He pointed to a piece of wreckage that was now literally part of the cliffside. 

Sam scanned the debris with a tricorder. "Captain, this is a piece of the outpost." 

"Radiation signatures?" he asked. 

"No, sir. I'm reading normal across the board." 

He nodded. "Okay, let's find the colony site." He was ready to head off when he saw the look on Sam's face. "This is the colony site," he said, half expecting her to contradict him. 

"Yes, sir," she said, disappointing him. "In fact, the transporter was supposed to put us in the center of the colony." 

He bowed his head, then continued in the direction he originally set out for. She looked to one of the guards, who shrugged. Then she followed the captain. She reached his destination. He had climbed the formation, and was standing at its peak, looking out at the destruction. He didn't turn around when she approached him. "I see nothing to tell that anyone survived. So much destruction. We don't even know why." 

"The _Firestone_ was here. You Saw that. I thought you knew why they were here, too." 

"No. I only Saw the planet's surface, as it is now." He turned toward Sam. "And frankly, I've seen enough, in more ways than one. Let's get out of here." He turned for one last look at the ruined landscape and suddenly stood rigid, his back a little arched, looking up at the sky. Sam was about to ask him if anything was wrong when he straightened up and took out his communicator. "Racer to _Valiant_. Prepare to beam up the landing party." 

Sam was still scanning the area when she said, "Captain, I'm reading a door at the base of the cliffside. It could be the entrance to the mine. The door prevents me from being able to tell if there are any life signs behind it." 

He nodded and changed frequencies. "Lieutenant Feyman," he said, referring to one of the security people who accompanied them, "Check out the door at the base of the cliff." 

"_Yes, sir_," came the reply. After a few minutes, Feyman called back. "_Nothing unusual about the door. It received some light damage when some of the outpost's debris struck it, but it's still intact. I'm going to try and open it so we can check inside_." Just as he finished, Apollo heard an explosion in the background. 

"Feyman! What happened?" 

Feyman's next transmission sounded strange, until Apollo realized that the security guard was running. "_We've met with resistance, Captain! Some of the miners were holed up in there. They have phasers, they outnumber us, and they think we caused all this, sir_!" 

He looked to Sam, who had a grim expression. "Get your team together and try to make it to my position." 

"Understood, sir. Feyman out." 

It only took a couple of minutes. Then Apollo saw Feyman rushing toward them, firing behind him. Phaser blasts shot over his head. Apollo murmured to Sam, "Phaser on stun." She showed compliance by taking out her sidearm and checking its charge and setting. 

The miners stopped, seeing Apollo. "There! He's the captain! He's behind this!" 

Apollo forced himself to be heard. "You are gravely mistaken," he shouted, "I am Captain Racer of the _USS Valiant_. We're after the ship that actually did this." 

Two other people reached the lead miner's position. Sam looked over the ledge to see that the rest of the group was holding off the other members of the landing party at the base of the cliff. 

"Why is it I don't believe you! Maybe it's because I know a Starfleet ship did this to us, and yours is the only one in orbit. That leaves me with the only answer." He fired, catching Apollo square in the chest. The blow knocked him backward off the cliff. 

"_No!_" Sam screamed. "_Apollo!_" She tried to rush to the edge, but now she was being fired upon and was forced to defend herself. 

Suddenly the phaser fire stopped. Sam had to do a double take to realize that Apollo was over by the miners. Phasers lay on the ground, and he had the lead miner by the shirt, and had hoisted him up until his feet dangled off the ground. 

"I... said... you were gravely mistaken." Apollo's eyes blazed, so brightly that Sam could see the fear in the other man's face. The man clearly saw his shot hit the captain, clearly saw him go over the cliff, yet now this very man was holding him off the ground. "Tell your group to back off!" 

The miner was too choked up with fear to talk, so he merely waved his friends off. They complied. 

Apollo set the man back down. "If we did all this," he gestured around him, calm back in his voice, "don't you think we wouldn't have stopped with you? Get a grip, man! You _don't_ shoot your rescuers." The man was at a loss for words or actions. Apollo took the opportunity to call the ship. "_Valiant_, this is Racer again. We found some survivors. Have a medical team standing by and have these people beamed aboard." He closed his communicator. "I suggest that you call your men off, before anyone else is hurt." 

The miner simply nodded and walked down the outcropping. Sam approached him, trading glances between the ledge and her captain. "Boy, that was some fancy transporter work." 

He turned to her. "What?" 

"I mean, the way they caught you and put you behind the miners. What I don't understand is that I saw them shoot you. You're not wearing armor." 

Apollo stared at her a moment. "Don't believe everything you see, Commander," he said, looking grim. Then he started down the embankment. 

When she reached the clearing, the group had already been signaled and was approaching the captain. Apollo quickly glanced around to be sure everyone was there, then he reestablished contact with the ship. "Energize." 

They returned to the ship, and Apollo didn't wait for ceremony. He left the room immediately. Sam was hot on his heels. "Apollo, would you mind telling me exactly what happened down there?" He whirled around and gave her a baleful look, a silent reminder about the command structure. "I mean, sir. I saw what I saw. You were clearly shot." 

He gave her a slight smile. "It was nothing. Apparently, a phaser on stun doesn't seem to affect me, thanks to how I am now. And one other thing," he slowly backed her against a bulkhead as each word came out. "I might allow a first name basis to take place in an informal setting, such as in our quarters or in the lounge. But any other times, I would appreciate it if you would remember proper courtesies. Is that clear, Commander?" 

She realized that she had crossed a line, and he was giving her a chance to step back across. "Yes, sir. It won't happen again," she said in a verbal backpedal. 

He grinned, but there was nothing warm to it. "See that it doesn't. Dismissed." He continued down the corridor, leaving her to think about what she just experienced. He knew he came down on her, but he also knew that some commanders wouldn't let the officer recover like that. He had seen some hard asses in his time, and he could be one if the situation called for it; he just didn't feel that this was one of those times. By the time he reached the turbolift and instructed it to take him to the bridge, he had already decided to talk to her more informally off-shift. 

The lift doors opened. He could sense that a couple of the crew members were making an effort to go against their training of announcing a senior officer, and he smiled slightly. Thelem left the command chair. "Captain. We've scanned the area around Cordova. There is no ship, but we picked up something interesting." He led Apollo over to the science station where that shift's science officer sat. _Ensign Puller, I believe_, he thought, as Thelem continued. "We noticed the ion trail of an impulse drive. It leads out of the system, and ends shortly after. Taking up the lead, we shifted scans and found a warp signature picking up where the trail left off." 

Apollo nodded grimly. "The _Firestone_ did its damage, left the system, and went into warp, apparently in search of other conquests." He heard the lift doors open and close, but he didn't turn, and he didn't say anything until the person was almost next to him. "Mr. Taylor, did the landing party take an inventory to see if anything was missing?" 

They were a little stunned to note that their captain knew exactly who approached him, but he was confident that as they served with him and learned more about him, they'd be more comfortable with him. As such, it took Sam a moment before she spoke. "Uh, yes, sir. They found that an entire day's worth of ore was missing. We figured it was destroyed when they attacked the planet." 

"Did you find any remnants of ore to back up that theory?" 

"Well, no..." 

He nodded. "I believe it was taken, and I know who did it. Thelem, look at this signature. Computer, enhance the warp signature for visual inspection." 

The computer complied instantly, giving the signature a blue glow. He snapped his fingers. "Bingo. There's no doubt, now. It was the _Firestone_, all right." 

Thelem was puzzled. "Sir, I don't understand." 

Apollo stepped back. "Ensign, what's wrong with this picture?" 

Puller studied the image intently. "This can't be a warp signature, sir." 

"Oh? And why not?" 

"Well, every signature I've ever seen has a bilateral form. This one is more triangular." He said matter-of-factly. 

"And so, on that basis alone, you would dismiss this as a warp signature." 

Puller gulped. He suddenly realized that the captain knew something he didn't. He looked to the first officer and to his superior. They saw the hole he had dug for himself, but they were unable to help him. 

Apollo decided that he had suffered enough. He glanced over at Sam as well... as senior science officer, she was responsible to relay to her department all pertinent information about their quarry. _I'll have to talk to her about _that_, too._ "What if the ship had three warp nacelles?" 

"But, sir, that's not feasible. Why would..." 

The captain wasn't listening to him. He was punching up something on the other screen at the station. A revolving graphic of the _Firestone_ showed up. "What if the ship looked like this?" He saw the abject disappointment on the ensign's face. "Don't dismiss something outright just because it appears out of the norm. You'll find a lot of that in Starfleet, Ensign." His voice was quiet, not condescending; Sam recognized it as the helpful tone he had used as a tutor. "Now, relay the trajectory of that signature to Navigation." He stood up and spoke up. "Mr. Raleigh, set course for the coordinates appearing at your station. Helm, ahead warp factor three." 

Sam looked up from Puller. "Warp three? But sir, I thought you wanted to catch this person." 

"I do, but if we were to take off at maximum warp every time we found a lead, we wouldn't get anywhere." He ticked off the reasons on his fingers. "Number one, if they were to make a course change, we would overshoot it by several light-seconds, and we'd waste time backtracking. Number two, we certainly don't want to catch up to them. Remember, they travel as fast as we do, but they probably don't know we're following them, so they probably won't be traveling at maximum warp. Number three, this person knows that he has a powerful ship, so he's probably not expecting any resistance. Another reason why he wouldn't push the limit. And number four, Mr. McCormick would probably get mad at me if I were to push his dear engines to the limit at a constant pace. I don't need to hear about it. But since you brought the point up, helm, make that warp four. Heaven forbid we should let these people get away." 

He moved to his chair and sat down. "In the meantime, our shift starts in a few minutes. Mr. Taylor, relieve Mr. Puller and take your post. Calculate a destination for our renegades." 

~ * ~ 

At the end of their shift, the officers were relieved and they headed to the turbolifts. Apollo hadn't missed the fact that he and Sam always managed to share a turbolift alone. This time especially, he was glad for his crew's thoughtfulness. He studied Sam as the doors closed. She seemed in an almost pensive mood. "Something on your mind?" he asked. 

She nodded. "I have to apologize for Ensign Puller, Captain. If I... if I wasn't so focused on trying to figure you out, I would have made sure everyone in my department would have had the information they needed, and he wouldn't have embarrassed himself on the bridge." 

He smirked. "You always were a bit snoopy. Isn't this the second time you've been trying to find out about me without asking me directly?" 

She blushed and stared at the floor. "Actually... not the second." 

His eyebrow rose. "Oh?" 

"Well, you always had been so... so... unapproachable! Even while we were together, it was tough to talk to you about stuff because you seemed so closed off. Now granted, after we got together you made terrific strides and it got easier... But now..." she paused, folding her arms around herself. "You're so... different. More than just physically. It's almost like we're at square one again." 

He closed his eyes and bowed his head. "In many ways, we are. I _am_ different, Sam... in ways that even _I_ haven't fully figured out. I learn something new about myself all the time. I want to tell you about it all! But... I don't want to scare you away. I don't want to overload you with too much. Can you understand that?" 

She moved forward and took his arm. "Apollo, I do understand. And... I have to admit, you're right... kind of. I am scared. But will you scare me away?" She shook her head emphatically. "Don't ever worry about that. I'm here... I've found you again, and I'm never going to let you out of my sight again, mister." She smiled. "You're still quite a catch, even more so now." She sighed. "I mean... _Captain_ Racer. I'd be a fool to let you go." 

Apollo shook his head, smirking. "Don't tell me your the type of person who's power-hungry." 

"Oh, far from it. You can have all that power. I just want the sex." The grinned coyly, lightly licking her lips. 

To her surprise, a purplish tinge appeared on his cheeks. "Uhhhhh... okay." The blush quickly faded, and now he seemed a little hesitant himself. "Look Sam... another reason I wanted to talk to you... about that time in the corridor..." he looked up and saw she was gazing at him with her full attention, which made it a little harder for him. "I'm sorry about putting rank between us there. But I _am_ the captain. If anything, we need to make sure... that is... I didn't want..." 

Sam watched him squirm, and as much as she enjoyed it, she let him off the hook. "It's okay. I understand. You were right. While we're on duty, we should keep our personal relationship separate." She had another coy thought. "And since we _are_ off duty now..." She used her grip on his arm to pull herself up and kiss his cheek. His blush returned and she giggled. "Okay, Captain, can we get the lift moving now?" 

In the conversation, he had completely forgotten to give the lift a command. "Yes... that'd probably help. Computer, deck eight." As the car stirred into motion, he asked her, "Soooo... not the second time, eh? When else did you do some digging?" 

"Hmm? Oh! I was keeping track of your career the whole time." 

"What?!" 

"Oh, come on..." she said, smiling. "You can't tell me you didn't..." She saw his look. "You didn't, did you." 

He placed a hand behind his hand. "Well... I was kind of going through a rough time. I _was_ thinking of you. Constantly. But I just, I mean, I didn't realize that." 

"Apollo." She stopped his squirming again. "It's okay. I understand. I mean, I know all about the Merrimac Scandal, and what that would have done for your reputation." As he visibly sighed with relief, she continued. "And I have to admit, when the _Excalibur_ disappeared, I thought that was it." Now she sighed, though depression was more evident. "Oh, did I cry that day. My friends and my captain didn't know what was wrong with me, and I just couldn't tell them." When she looked at him again, her eyes were sparkling. "You don't know how much it meant to me to see you in that transporter room. It felt like the darkness had been dispelled." She wrapped her arms around him and held him silently until the doors opened again. With clear heads and light hearts, they walked through the corridor, not even caring if anyone saw them holding hands. 


	19. Origins Chapter Nineteen

_CHAPTER NINETEEN_

The _Valiant_ approached the planet Fremma III at the end of the week. As they entered orbit, Apollo had M'ress hail them. "This is Captain Racer of the starship _Valiant_. Do you read us?" 

The planet's arc was replaced by the image of a haggard humanoid. She was rather thin, with gray skin, an elongated face, and pupilless black eyes. Her hair was up in a bun, but it appeared that a few strands had gone astray. "Go away! We don't need any more of your kind here. We've already lodged a complaint with the Federation about you." 

"Wait a minute. I don't understand. Have you been attacked?" 

The person looked angrily at Apollo. "No, it was worse. We were violated. A group of your men came down; claimed they requested shore leave. Then without so much as a by-your-leave, they went through our capital like a bunch of barbarians, causing civil unrest, several fights. They even raped one of our tavern maids. We tried to stop them, but they threatened that if any action were taken against them, they'd destroy us." 

Sam heard a sickening creak from Apollo's direction. He had a hold of an arm of his chair during the Fremman's entire tirade. She could obviously see the damage he was causing to it. She quietly moved to his side and put a hand on his shoulder. "Captain," she said quietly, "Apollo?" 

He turned to her, and she lifted his hand from the chair, showing him how he'd twisted and crushed the metal underneath. He looked in her eyes, saw understanding and support, and grinned sheepishly. "Oops." He returned his attention to the screen. "If I may be allowed to beam down, perhaps I can..." 

"No! No! I will not have a repeat of the incidents!" 

"Please. I understand what you have just gone through. I promise you, it would only be myself and three of my most trusted officers, and we would be unarmed. No one else. You can even have us under guard if you wish." 

She thought about it for a moment. "Very well. We will give you the coordinates. It will be only you and your three officers, and you will all come down unarmed. We will be waiting." She cut the communication. 

Apollo stood immediately. "Thelem, you and Sam. M'ress, have Commander Williams take the conn, and summon Dr. Sorel to the transporter room." The three of them entered the lift and the doors closed on them. 

~ * ~ 

His suggestions were taken to heart. When they beamed down, they were met by the person who talked to Apollo, along with six guards, all of whom trained their weapons on them. Under this guard, Apollo requested that they be led to whoever was injured. Still skeptical, but confident since the guards were there, the leader, who finally introduced herself as Minister Brekken of the Crea colony, led the landing party to the nearest hospital. 

As soon as Sorel saw the people injured in the fights with the _Firestone_ crew, he went to work. After a quick scan, he reported. "Captain, these people were shot with phasers set for heavy stun. It has had some detrimental effects on their nervous systems." 

"Can you help them?" 

"Yes, sir, I can." He reached for his medikit and his guards shoved their weapons toward him. Sorel held out his hands. "Captain, may I? I cannot treat these people under such intense scrutiny. They will only interfere with my efforts." 

Apollo sighed and turned to Brekken. "Minister, I give you my word that my doctor is only going to help your people. If you know anything about healers, you know that they've taken an oath to save lives rather than take them." 

Brekken thought about it. Apollo found that she mulled over basically everything he said. Finally, she looked up. "You have wisdom in your words. Guards, let him through." 

The guards stepped away and Sorel went to work. "This should not take long, sir." he said. 

Apollo gestured to the hallway. "Minister, may I have a word with you?" The four of them, the minister, Apollo, and the two Fremmans guarding him, headed out the door. "Minister, I fully understand what you must have been through. But let me assure you that where the men you dealt with before wanted only to harm, we want only to help. These men are fugitives, renegades. We are searching for them, but in the process, we are... cleaning up their messes behind them, and it pains me because our reputation is being sullied. I speak on behalf of the Federation when I say that we wouldn't want you to judge our entire Starfleet by the actions of a few men. Please believe me that we'll do everything in our power to make reparations for what happened." 

Sorel came out of the ward. "I have repaired the damage to their nervous systems. If I may be allowed to see the rape victim." 

Apollo looked at Brekken. She seemed to finally allow his words to sink in. "This way." 

They returned to the ward. Brekken dismissed the guards, to Sam's and Thelem's surprise, and they headed deeper in the ward. She opened an inner door, and they looked in on a slight figure laying in the room's only bed. Sam gasped. "She looks no older than about fourteen!" 

Brekken nodded. "Her fourteenth summer is approaching. I would like her to see her fifteenth. You see..." her voice started faltering, "she is my daughter. Now you know my reasons for doubting you." 

Apollo clenched his fists. "I assure you, we'll do what we can. Sorel." 

"Right away." He rushed to the bedside. After a moment, he said, "The girl has suffered a severe trauma. I am afraid I can't do anything for her here." 

Again Apollo turned to Brekken for help. "Minister, our ship has the resources possible to help your daughter. If you'll only allow me, I can..." 

"Save it, Captain. You've proven to me that you are trustworthy. I will allow you to help my daughter. I shall send my husband with her." She acted as though a dark cloud had lifted to reveal the sunlight. 

Apollo smiled and gestured to Sorel, who took out his communicator. "Dr. Sorel to _Valiant_. Two to beam up. Have a medical team waiting in the transporter room. Energize." The doctor and his patient disappeared. 

Apollo took out his own communicator. "_Valiant_, this is Captain Racer. I'll have one more person to beam up as soon as I get the coordinates." He closed the channel and turned to the rest of his party. "Well people, shall we get to work?" 

~ * ~ 

It took four days to repair the damage caused by the _Firestone_'s crew. Sorel informed Apollo that the minister's daughter would sufficiently recover both physically and mentally from her ordeal, though he mentioned that the latter form of recovery will take more time than the former. The minister's husband labeled it no less than a miracle. He had seen rape victims before. If they were lucky, they were able to commit suicide. They simply did not know enough about psychology to heal the mental scars that form from such a violation. 

The minister thanked Apollo for all he and his crew had done. Apollo told her that if they could stay and rest for a few days, it would be thanks enough. She agreed, and he contacted the ship and announced that shore leave could commence. 

The people of Fremma were pleasantly surprised by differences between the two ships' crews. Where they found the _Firestone_'s crew brash, cruel and barbaric, by contrast, the crew of the _Valiant_ were civilized, professional, kind, and very helpful. Some of them even offered to help rebuild some of the structures in the town. It made Apollo proud to see his people so willing to undo the fears that were wrought by Stevens' minions. 

The day before they were to depart, he was out in a field, taking in the green pastures and the bright flowers. When he heard footsteps rustling behind him. "Cordova once looked like this," he called out. 

"You can't be everywhere." was the reply. Apollo turned to see Sam strolling up to him. "Besides, why think of Cordova when you're here amidst all this? We know what it looked like, and we know what happened to it. Why mar the beauty that is here with the horrors that we've seen?" 

Apollo refused to give up his mood without a fight. "Because he's still out there. He could be turning another planet to ruins while we're here... ruining other people's lives... he has to be stopped!" 

Sam had enough of the conversation. "Then why don't you get on your communicator, call the ship, cancel shore leave, and go chasing after him again." Her firm stance and the fire in her eyes told Apollo she wasn't going to back down. 

He gave up the fight, and his shoulders slumped to physically register it. "You're right... I can't do that to the crew. I'm responsible for their morale as well as their physical health. They've earned this respite, and I can't take it away from them." 

She took his arm and held it in both hands. "Then accept the present. I know you; you'll catch up to him. Once you make up your mind, nothing escapes you. Be concerned later." She let a smile creep onto her face. "For right now, do as your crew is doing. Enjoy yourself." 

He took her by the shoulders. "You're right. I've been beating myself over the head with this. If I don't relax, I'll make them uncomfortable." Then he went through a change right in front of Sam. His eyes lost the hard edge to their light and once again took on a soft glow. She thought it amazing that at one moment, she could get a headache from that glare, and the next, she could be caressed by their warmth. He drew her in for a hug. "Thanks for being here, Sam. You really don't know how much you mean to me." 

"Maybe, but I do know that I love you very much, even if there are times you can be very thick headed." 

"I know, I know. I shouldn't allow myself to get that way. I love you, too." He studied her face for a moment, then made a decision. He held her close. "I think it's time I shared something with you. Something I discovered can perk me up When I feel blue or frustrated." 

She nodded. "I know. You have those Vulcan techniques of yours." 

"No. Even better than that." He leaned in close too her and whispered, "I can fly." 

She smiled. "Yeah, right. Get out of here." 

"No, seriously, I can." 

She started chuckling. "Get out of here." 

"You don't believe me." 

"No, I don't believe you." 

"We're doing it now." 

"Stop it." 

"You still don't believe me." 

"No, I don't. Now cut it out." 

"Look down." 

"Will you stop joking. I don't..." 

"Look down." She looked down. 

They were five feet off the ground and slowly gaining altitude. 

Sam's face suddenly went white. She pulled close to Apollo and hung on for dear life. "Oh my God. What are you doing?" 

"I'm flying." 

"OhGodohGodohGod." She buried her face in his chest and froze. 

Apollo grinned at her reaction. But then he got serious. He stopped his ascent; they hung a mere fifteen feet off the ground. "Sam, look at me." 

Sam somehow shook her head violently back and forth while keeping it in his chest. "Nononononono..." She whimpered. 

"Sam, look at me. That's an order, Commander." She didn't budge. He grasped her chin and as he forced her head up he hissed, "Look at me!" He looked in her eyes. Her pupils were tiny as pinpoints. _My God, she's afraid of heights_. Then he mentally hit himself in the head. _Of course. After what happened to her back at the Academy, it's no wonder_. He spoke calmly and slowly. "Sam, you are going to be all right. You are not going to fall. I am not going to drop you. Do you understand me?" She absently nodded. It was almost as if she was mesmerized by his stare. He noticed this. "Sam, don't. Snap out of it. I'm not going to allow any harm to come of you. Okay?" 

"Uh huh." She finally found her voice, and she relaxed her grip. He held her with both arms so she could shift to a more comfortable position, placing her arms around the back of his neck. 

She laughed nervously. "I can't believe it. You really are flying." 

He nodded, giving her his warm smile. "I told you I could. Like I said, when I feel too much burden, I lighten the load by doing this. Comes in handy, too. This is how I got around the cliff to the miners on Cordova so quickly." He smiled, watching her face as items clicked into place in her mind. "Do you think you can handle a little movement?" 

She looked at her feet, at how far off the ground they were. Then she looked at him, as if to measure his words. She slowly nodded. 

Apollo grinned. He told her to hold on, then he moved across the ground. She gave a little yip as they started, but then she took great interest in his actions. She looked at his face. He seemed perfectly content to use this way of travel. More so, he was equally pleased to be able to share the experience with someone that he cared a great deal for. She decided to take stock of the situation. Here she was, flying with a man that she loved deeply. The only odd thing was that the only thing missing was that they were flying without a ship. But if she overlooked that fact, she was fine. An awfully prominent thing to overlook. 

She suddenly realized he was talking to her. "Excuse me?" she asked. 

He repeated himself. "I said, when I would fly, and the sky was overcast, I would rise above the clouds, where the weather was more suitable." She wondered why he said that until she looked past him and noticed that it had grown cloudy. He slowly rose up into the cover. She smiled as she felt the water vapor brush past her. Then, suddenly, they were through the clouds, looking at the brightly shining sun. Any arguments in her head disappeared. 

Apollo saw the expression on her face and decided on a little maneuverability. He swooped down below the clouds causing her to yelp with his sudden movement, and skimmed a mere ten feet off the ground. She gasped as they dropped, but she was getting used to the fact of not having anything under her feet. In fact, she was actually starting to enjoy herself. She was amazed at how Apollo was able to keep himself in the air. "How can you possibly do this?" 

He grinned. "When I first discovered I could fly, I had the same question, so I did a little research. As close as I can figure, I can generate a graviton field, much like a shuttle does. I think it's more than that, though. This field can be controlled to do a lot more than repel gravity. So far all I've found is that this field... this aura that I produce... helps to cleanse me of any harmful organism. It also seems to act as a kind of shield, which is why that phaser blast didn't really affect me. I can sense that it can do more, but I haven't been able to find out what." 

"You mean there's no way you can do any tests?" 

"Sorel can't find anything in his medical scans, other than my altered biology." 

They were silent for a while, enjoying the moment. A flock of indigenous avians soared by them, swerving to give the couple a wide berth. She grinned. "Can you go faster than this?" 

He chuckled. "So you want a little speed, eh. Well, I think I can accommodate you. Hang on." 

She turned around in his arms so she could see where they were going; this wasn't an easy task while hanging upside down, but she managed. Apollo wouldn't tell her, but the moment he lifted off, his forcefield surrounded her. She couldn't fall even if she wanted to, but it felt nice with her holding onto him. He'd let her know later... right now he was going to enjoy this. Once Apollo was convinced that she was secure, he took off. He flew low over treetops and towns, the sights going by in a blur. 

Thelem was walking with M'ress in one village when they noticed that villagers were pointing low in the sky, staring. They followed their attention until a figure streaked overhead. They almost thought they could hear someone go, "Wahoo!" Before they could track it, it was gone. 

M'ress stood agape in the direction the streak headed. "What in blazes was that?" 

Thelem merely crossed his arms and shook his head at the sight. Smiling, he muttered, "Show off." 

Sam had shouted when they went over the village. "I saw some of our crew down there." She looked up at her lover, who merely smiled and concentrated on the task at hand. She couldn't help but have a grin plastered on her face; she felt as exhilarated as a child on her first flight. 

Finally, Apollo headed back to their original spot in the field. The sun was setting as they landed, bathing the clouds in a pink glow. He set her down and faced her. "Are you okay?" 

"Okay?" Sam laughed. "I feel wonderful! Thank you. Now I understand what you meant before." Her smile disappeared temporarily. "You must have known I had a fear of heights." 

"I surmised as much." 

"I got rid of it up there with you." 

"Glad to be of service." 

"You truly can lose yourself up there." 

"Only when I'm with you." 

"I'll bet you say that to all the girls." 

Apollo thought a moment. "No," he said, quite sincerely. "Actually, this was the first time I've ever flown with someone." 

His tone broke through her headiness. She gazed into his eyes, realizing what he was saying. 

He confirmed her thoughts. "And quite frankly, I don't think I could do that with anyone else. Not feeling as I did up there." 

She figured that the scenery and the set-up line couldn't be better. She drew close and kissed him. As she did, she could feel them hover just off the ground. She broke the embrace to see how far; they were only a few inches up. She looked at his face. 

"This is how I have always felt every time we were together. I was just never able to show it. Until now." They held each other tight and watched together as the stars came out. 

~ * ~ 

The next morning, Thelem was coordinating the beamup of crew members who were still planetside. He was standing with Minister Brekken when Apollo and Sam were walking into town, arm-in-arm. "Good morning, Captain, Commander. We were just getting ready to leave. I would think that it would be slightly embarrassing if we were to leave without our commanding officer." He cocked his head. "We tried to contact you since last night. Is your communicator malfunctioning?" 

Apollo looked at Sam. She shrugged. "I don't think so. Wait a minute." he replied. He patted his chest, then checked around his waist. He mocked a startled expression. "You know, I must have left it in my other uniform. How thoughtless of me." Sam covered her mouth with her hand to hide her smile. 

Thelem sighed. "Yes. I believe you have a phrase you're fond of using. 'Tell me another one.'" 

Apollo gave him a broad grin. "We'll leave within the hour. Minister Brekken, I want to thank you for your hospitality. I hope my people weren't too much trouble." 

Brekken smiled warmly. "On the contrary, your people have been extraordinarily respectful. I'm afraid I must apologize for doubting the integrity of your Starfleet. I speak on behalf of my people when I say that anytime you wish to return, you are welcome here." 

"Thank you again, Minister. Well, Thelem, is everything under control?" 

He checked his padd. "We are the only ones left here. We can beam up at your discretion." 

"Well then, if you would do the honors, I mean, since I'm so forgetful and all?" He smirked and Sam giggled. 

Thelem gave his captain another sly look, but pulled out his communicator. He signaled the ship, and they disappeared in columns of light. 


	20. Origins Chapter Twenty

_CHAPTER TWENTY_

The _Firestone_ whirled around to fire another volley at the pursuing Romulan ship. A Z-1 Nova Class VIII battleship, it was just the type of ship that the battle cruiser was built for. The photon torpedoes hit with deadly accuracy. Shields that were once flaring strong now weakened and died. The ship tried to use its cloaking device, but as it faded, an explosion appeared on its port side, and the ship came back into view. 

The _Firestone_ pounded mercilessly, and the enemy battleship came apart at the seams in a brilliant bloom of plasma and ignited gases. 

The captain jumped out of his chair. "Yes!" He pumped his arm down in a victorious gesture. He then raged over to the viewscreen, practically putting his face in it, so he could drink in the wonderful sight. "Ramsey, are there any other ships in the area?" 

The man he called Ramsey glanced in his viewer. "No, sir. This sector is ours." 

Stevens grinned. "Good. That will show those damned Romulans not to interfere in our mission. Helm, resume our course and speed. We have places to go." He sat back down in his chair and caressed its sides. "Ah, yes. This is a fine ship that Starfleet decided to give me. Under my command, I'll show those bureaucratic fools how to do things." 

Ramsey watched his captain go into another tirade. He felt that the man was a fool for wasting precious resources, but he was a smart fool. It was only days after they had stolen the ship that they realized it was incomplete, and that it was damaged upon leaving the spacedock. They repaired the ship, and now nothing could stop them, which frankly scared Ramsey a little. Their captain was getting a little too obsessive these days. He couldn't do anything now, but he could wait silently, as he always did, for the captain to slip up. When he did, Ramsey would make his move. 

~ * ~ 

_It's a slow night_, Apollo thought to himself as he walked the corridors. _Or maybe I only think it's slow because I don't get around this late very often anymore_. Since that night on Fremma, he and Sam have been able to retire for the night earlier than usual. Of course, sleep was out of the question, but who needs sleep anyway. 

Tonight was different. The science officer on gamma shift was sick, and Sam volunteered to pull a double shift. Not unusual for this ship... Apollo noticed that friends always covered for each other... it's just that without any distractions, he couldn't sleep, so he'd taken to his rounds again. _Which makes me realize that I've been a little selfish lately. The crew used to like to see me walk around. I have to do it more often again._

He found himself entering Stellar Cartography. On the trail of the _Firestone_, they had a rare opportunity to observe a star's collapse into a neutron star. They stopped to record it, and now the people here were poring over the data they'd retrieved. It reminded Apollo of his time aboard the _Oberth_. It was surprising that with as much information they had gathered while he commanded her, they still had so much more to learn about the galaxy. He felt quite sure that there were plenty of surprises waiting to astound humanity as they explored their tiny section of space. 

He snapped out of the memory as he realized one of the officers was waving him over. It was Karen. He strode over to lean against the back of her chair. "Captain, this is amazing," she said in awe. "I never believed that a star could collapse so quickly." 

He stared at the screen, mesmerized by the view. The star had shrunk from a red giant to a neutron star in the matter of a few years. Astronomically speaking, it was faster than the blink of an eye. "What would cause such a high rate of collapse?" His Vulcan curiosity won out in him, and he joined her in her research. 

"We haven't yet figured it out." She moved over to make room for him; he got down on one knee, as there were no chairs left. "We think that it reached a certain point that there simply wasn't enough material for the star to maintain its previous size. As it shrank, its gravitational forces grew, and its reduction rate increased exponentially, until it stabilized in the form we see now." 

"Intriguing," Apollo said. 

Karen looked at Apollo. "You love her a lot, don't you?" 

"How could I? I've only just seen it. Besides, I'm merely curious about the star, not emotionally attached to it." 

"No. I mean you love Sam a lot." 

Apollo stopped what he was doing, then shifted his entire attention to her. "What are you talking about? Of course I love her." He paused, looking at her suspiciously. "Why? What are you getting at?" 

"Oh, I was just curious as to why you haven't done anything about it." 

Apollo was perplexed. "Why I haven't... wait a minute. Why are you here? Aren't you on alpha shift, too?" 

She shrugged. "Yes, but I just got wrapped up in my work. And no, I'm not pulling the extra shifts to get you to change your mind about letting Ethan on board early." 

"I'll bet. You two have something going." 

"I should hope so. I'm his mother." 

He shook his head in frustration. "No, I mean you and Sam." He noticed that heads were beginning to turn. "Come with me." He got up and headed for the door; she followed. 

Once out in the corridor, he started up again. "You and Sam planned this." 

She looked shocked. "How could you even say something like that? We both know she had to pull a double shift." 

"Yeah, and I'll bet if I check Sickbay, I'll find out that Lieutenant Brenner never went there, much less get confined to quarters. Both you and Sam know that if I'm not occupied, I have trouble sleeping, and I make my rounds. It's not hard to guess that since we just studied that star, I'd make a visit to Stellar Cartography. Fess up, now... you know what happens when you gang up on me. Remember the fountain at the Academy?" He added an impish grin at the end for emphasis. 

"Okay, okay. Call off your dogs." Karen was waving him off. "I'll confess, you did come up here and there in our conversations, and your feelings for her aren't really concealed that much." 

"I don't even try to conceal them." 

"That much we could tell. Look, all I'm saying is that we were concerned... okay, she was concerned, and she wanted me to find something out if I could. So, now that that's out, you bum, why haven't you asked her to marry you?" 

That took Apollo off his guard. He tried to cover himself. "I'll have you know it's inappropriate calling your captain a bum," he said, pointing at her. She didn't budge. "It's not working, is it." She shook her head. He sighed. "To be honest, I... I really don't know. I mean, I do love her, but... I guess... maybe I grew a little too comfortable with how the relationship is now. Maybe I just get scared about it. I mean, think about it. I'm her commanding officer. Suppose she has to go on a dangerous mission. I have to order her to do it. How the hell can I live with myself if she gets hurt? Or killed?" 

Karen's eyes glazed over for a minute. This was definitely something she hadn't thought of. "Well... it sounds as if it's something you two have to talk about. And you _do_ have to talk to her about it. There is no reason why you should be putting it off. Now, if you'll excuse me, sir, I have to return to my work." 

Apollo smiled at her sarcasm. She returned it as she passed through the door. He looked around him and realized that he needed to think. So turned and headed down the corridor. 

~ * ~ 

The doors to the shuttle bay opened to admit Sam. She walked inside, every footstep echoing through the cavernous room. "Captain? Are you here?" She noticed that the outer doors were open; the atmospheric force field was the only thing between her and the cold depths of space. She was startled as Apollo floated into sight. He was hovering near the ceiling when she entered and called out. His legs were crossed, with his arms resting on them, as though he were meditating. "I just got off duty. Again. You weren't in your quarters, and I knew you wanted to check out that info on the star. Karen said..." 

"We need to talk, Commander, and since technically neither of us is supposed to be on shift, you can drop the formality." 

She did so, but noticed by his tone that he wasn't in the mood for romance. "What's on your mind?" she asked simply. 

He gazed out past the bay into space. "You know, I come here a lot when I need peace without interruption. No one ever thinks of looking for their captain in the ass end of the ship. On the _Excalibur_, Skip and I used to meet here whenever we needed to talk, and didn't want the rest of the crew to overhear." 

"Is that why you called me here? To talk about 'something'?" 

When he was low enough, he merely uncrossed his legs and straightened them to touch the floor. Then he started pacing, trying to get the words out. He decided the blunt approach would be best at that point. "Sam, I want to ask you to marry me." He waited until his statement hit her and the initial shock passed before he continued. He had to wait a few minutes. "Now, before you say anything, I'm not finished. I'm saying that I want you to marry me... but..." he walked up to her and grasped her shoulders. "I have this little problem, kind of a conflict of interests. You see, I love you very much, but I'm also your CO. You should be able to understand when I say that I don't want to worry about you - any more than I'd worry about anyone else in my crew - if I were to send you on a landing party. If it got dangerous, if you got hurt, or worse... I'd never forgive myself." 

She smiled, relieved that it seemed the worst thing he worried about. "Silly. You know me better than that. Well enough to know that I picked this career for a reason. If we were going to let a thing like this stop us, one of us would have never stayed in the Academy. Apollo, I love you very much, too. And quite frankly, when we were apart, I kept hoping we'd be together again; I always dreamed that you would ask me that one question. 

"You would be a fool, or extremely cold, if you didn't worry about me. But you would be a bigger fool if you let that worry hamper your judgment. Now I think that I'm a big girl, and I can take care of myself. I know you will try your damnedest to keep from giving me any special treatment, and I'll try my damnedest to keep from taking any. Would that be all right by you?" 

He smiled. "That would be just fine. Now, if I can just make this official..." 

"By all means." 

He went down on one knee. At first, she thought he was going to be corny and propose to her that way. But the next thing she knew, he sat her on his raised knee and slowly lifted her into the air until they reached the center of the bay. "Samantha Taylor, more than anything else, I've wanted to share my life with you. You are the light in my heart, impossible to extinguish, nor would I ever dare to. You would make me a very happy man if you would take my hand in marriage." 

Sam couldn't help but feel a tear roll down her cheek, even though they had been talking marriage since she walked in. Now she knew why the shuttle bay door was open. _He must have rehearsed this, the bastard._ She was too choked up to speak, all she could do was nod frantically. She pulled him close and held him tight when suddenly she heard applause. She looked down. The bridge crew from Alpha shift came in, smiling and cheering. Karen was leading the bunch. 

Sam glared at Apollo, but all he could do was shrug as best as he could without dropping her. "I didn't know about this." He headed toward the floor. 

Upon touching down, Karen came up to them. "I was wondering when you two lovebirds would come to your senses. God, Apollo, do you have to have a shuttlecraft drop on you to figure out what was left to do? And you, Sam. We're not in Apollo's old time. You could have asked him just as much as he could ask you. Boy, Apollo, you're lucky Skip's not around. He'd beat you senseless, though he wouldn't have far to go." 

They looked at her, and at each other. When they returned their gazes to her, they wore a matching set of evil grins. Karen knew that look all too well, and before they could twitch, she was out the door in a flash. 

Laughter sprang up among the group. "Hey, I just thought of something." Apollo said. "If the captain is supposed to perform the weddings on a ship, who performs it if it's the captain's wedding?" 

Thelem thought about it. "I suppose we could go to a starbase. Then a commodore or an admiral could do it." 

Their conversation was interrupted by the intercom. "_Captain Racer to the bridge_." 

Apollo found the nearest companel. "Racer here. What's up?" 

"_Sir, we're picking up reports from the __USS Bozeman_. They've discovered a debris field close to the Romulan Neutral Zone. The debris has been identified as belonging to at least three of their battleships." 

"What does that have to do with us?" 

"_Sir, they said the ships were Nova-class_." 

Apollo slowly looked up. "I'm on my way. Racer out." 

Thelem was puzzled. "What does it mean, Captain?" 

Apollo stopped as the doors opened and whirled around. "The _Firestone_ was built to take on their Nova-class ships. Currently, it's the only ship in the fleet capable of taking on more than one." He shot down the corridor. The group took one look at each other, then hurried off after their commander. 

~ * ~ 

"_Are you sure this was caused by a Federation ship? I mean, I didn't think we had any such weaponry capable of doing this to Nova-class ships. They're the most advanced that the Romulans have come up with, at least to our knowledge_." 

Apollo's eyes narrowed to slits. "Believe me, Captain Bateson, we have a ship. The _Firestone_ was built for just this type of confrontation." 

He didn't like this at all. The _Valiant_ had entered the sector only moments before, to find the _Bozeman_ sifting through the wreckage. As a consequence for alerting other ships to watch for signs of the battle cruiser, certain technical details had to be included for their safety, details such as the fact that the _Firestone_ had enough firepower to take out a squadron of Romulan ships, or obliterate a fairly decent-sized planet. 

The first reaction Apollo had to deal with when contacting Captain Bateson was disbelief. Before the _Firestone_, the Federation didn't really have a chance to face this new threat. In light of recent events, they may still have problems. "Any sign of the _Firestone_ from your sensor sweeps?" he inquired of the other captain. 

"_One moment_." He conferred with one of his officers off the screen. "_We picked up a warp signature leaving the area, one the likes of which I've never seen. We're sending the info to you now_." 

The moment they started receiving the signal, Sam recognized it. "Sir, it's the _Firestone_, all right. Attempting to trace its course now." 

Apollo looked at Bateson and smiled grimly. "Thank you for your help." 

Bateson chuckled nervously. "Just be sure you get the bastard. I've only heard a little about what this Stevens guy is like. He's a disgrace to everything Starfleet stands for, and since he stole that ship, he gives Starfleet a bad name. Give him hell, Apollo. _Bozeman_ out." His face was replaced with a view of the Soyuz-class ship drifting through the debris field." 

Thelem said, "Well, Captain, shall we continue our pursuit." 

Apollo wanted nothing more, however... "No, not yet. In case you haven't noticed, we've always been one step behind Stevens. There's got to be a pattern to this madness; I want to find out what it is before..." He was silent for a moment, then jerked out of his seat. His face contorted in pain, though he tried hard to hide it. 

"Captain, are you all right?" Thelem asked, drawing concerned looks from around the bridge. 

The moment passed; they were really beginning to worry. Then Apollo snapped his head around to glare at Thelem. "I'm fine. M'ress, call up Stevens' service record. Have it patched through to my office." He didn't wait for acknowledgment before leaving the bridge. 

~ * ~ 

A chime sounded. "Come in," Apollo responded. 

The door opened and Sam entered the foyer. "I hope I'm not intruding." 

Apollo looked up from his reader. "Oh no, not at all. Come in, come in." 

Sam entered his office slowly. "Is... everything all right?" Apollo ignored her. She looked at what he was reading. "You're still working on Stevens' record?" 

He gestured toward the viewer. "His Starfleet record, his personnel file, even his psych profile, and if you tell anyone I got that, I'll swat you." 

She put her hands on his shoulders; they jerked. "Jeez, dear, you're wound up tighter than a clock spring." 

He nodded absently. "Yeah, that's right. I've been a little tense lately." 

She started to work, kneading his shoulders and neck. "My God, it's like trying to work steel cable. You really ought to relax." 

"You heard what Bateson said. I doubt anyone can relax until that wacko is under control." 

"Well, I think you've been working at it too hard. Maybe you should take a step back, take a deep breath, and just retrace your steps." 

The muscles under her hands suddenly went slack. She thought he passed out when he suddenly stood up. When he turned to look at her, she could almost swear she saw a light turn on over his head. "Retrace my steps! Darling, your wonderful!" Before she could react, he cupped her face and kissed her, then sat back down. "Computer, give me a list of Commander Stevens' activities during his Starfleet career." The viewer promptly revealed the requested list. "Now give me a list of reported sightings of the _Firestone_ since her abduction and correlate the two lists." 

A second list popped up aside the first. Several entries were highlighted. "Look at this, Sam. He _is_ retracing his steps; doing everything he did when he was in Starfleet. I think we just found a way to figure out where his next move will be." 

She noticed the entries on the second list that weren't highlighted. "What about these? There's no comparison with the other list." 

"That's because in those instances he confronted conflicts he didn't deal with in the past. They're moments of chance, instances he hadn't counted on." 

She looked at the lists again. "Well, then, what about the ones on the first list that weren't highlighted?" 

His reverie stalled, and he made a face. "Hmm. Good question. Computer, bring up the highlighted entries on the first list." The computer promptly complied. 

They studied the list for a while. "It looks as though at each of these stops, Stevens didn't do too well," Sam noticed. 

Apollo reread the entries. "You're right. Each place he's visited marks a point in his career where he suffered a downward slide." He pointed at one entry. "I remember this place! We were on the _Merrimac_. Klingons tried to establish an outpost there. We stopped them, but after losing our landing party, Stevens wanted to beam up and take them out from orbit. I refused to go along with it, so he went up without me. That bastard told them I was killed. As a result of his lie, he was given a reprimand, and started in motion a series of events that made me quite the unpopular person." 

She hugged him from behind. "I'm so sorry you went through that. It's okay now." 

He nodded. "Actually, I like to think that it made me a better person today. Captain Kirk seemed to think so, anyway. He saw me shortly after that incident. Backed my actions, too. If not for him, I probably wouldn't be here." 

"Well, yeah," she said, rolling her eyes. "After all, he _did_ pull your ass out of the _Excalibur_." He swatted her arm and she returned her attention back to the screen. "Hey, look here. This Isaleese Incident took place just before he came to this sector." 

"And here it is on the first list. He was engaged by those Romulan ships before he could reach his next destination. This makes him particularly dangerous because it means he's not totally buried in the past. He can and has adapted to situations in the present as they crop up. We'll have to be real careful." He sat back. "On the other hand, he's still never given any indication that he knows he's being pursued. Now, either he doesn't know it, he _does_ know it and is acting like he doesn't to set a trap for pursuing ships, or he just simply doesn't care." 

She nodded. "Should we notify other ships as to his pattern?" 

"Nnnnnno... he might intercept the transmission. It wouldn't be hard, because it'd have to be a broadly based transmission. No, better to use a messenger type system. We could contact the _Bozeman_, tell them to seek out other starships and give them the information through ship-to-ship messages. It'll be slower, but it cuts down on Stevens' chances of finding out that we know what he's up to. And if that fails, we still have an ace up our sleeve." 

"What's that?" she said to his back as he headed for the door. 

"He thinks I'm dead." He was almost out the door when she grabbed his arm, whirling him around. 

"Just a minute, buster. That brings up the point of why I'm here. Why would he think you're dead? Does it have to do with what I saw on the bridge earlier? And don't avoid my questions this time. You obviously have these flashes of pain. I've seen you go through that before. Don't make me get Sorel in on this." 

He stopped dead, raking over her with his penetrating gaze. She felt her courage start to bleed out of her, but she held firm and stood her ground. Finally he re-entered his office and the door closed. He walked back over to the desk, sat down, and put his face in his hands. 

"Dammit, Apollo, I'm waiting! Tell me what's wrong or I'm going to Sickbay." 

He took his hands away from his face so she could hear him. "You know, blackmail is very unbecoming of you." 

"I mean it!" 

"He wouldn't find anything." 

"That remains to be seen." Realizing that she might be breaking through, she walked over to him and took his hand. "Besides, if we're to be married, I would think it would help our relationship if you didn't keep any secrets from me." 

"Oho, so now it's manipulation." He looked up at her and decided that she was right. "C'mon, let's go to Sickbay. I guess Sorel should hear this, too." 

~ * ~ 

Meeting in sickbay, Sam and Sorel listened as Apollo related to them what happened when he confronted Stevens aboard the _Firestone_ while it was still docked at Starbase 47; he also told them, reluctantly, of how he managed to rid himself off the deadly projectile. "Apparently, I physically destroyed the bullet, but the experience left a mental scar, or more aptly, a ghost sensation, in my mind. Every so often, out of the blue, I'll be struck with a flashback of that terrible ordeal, and it'll feel as though it happened yesterday." As he described it, he absently rubbed the spot on his back where he had been shot. 

Sorel had scanned Apollo thoroughly during his story. "I do not detect any foreign object in his system. There isn't even any scarring, aside from his purported mental ordeal. I have heard of spiderweb bullets. It must have taken an extraordinary amount of energy to purge the device from your body." 

"There were black scars on the ceiling of the Starbase 47's medical bay as proof of that. So now you know. It is a secret I intend to keep from anyone else. The reason is obvious. Can you understand what would happen if Starfleet got wind of the fact that I could be in combat, and then out of nowhere this would strike? I'd probably never command a starship again." 

Sorel stood silent for a moment. "The logic of your statement is valid. However, I would not necessarily say that I could come to the same conclusion." 

"We'll help you out as best we can," Sam said in assurance. 

"Thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me." Apollo took Sam's hand in emphasis and gave it a little squeeze. She smiled in return. "Now, what say we go catch us a starship?" They left Sorel to his work and headed for the bridge. 

As the lift doors opened, Thelem looked up from M'ress' station. "Captain, we were just about to call you. The _Firestone_'s been found. The _Enterprise_ and the _Horizon_ have engaged them. _Bozeman_ is just arriving, and the _Hornet_ is about five minutes away." 

Apollo practically jumped into his chair. "Set course for their coordinates, maximum warp. Contact the _Enterprise_, tell them we're about to join the party." As he saw the familiar distortion of stars that heralded warp speed, he punched the comm button on his chair. "Bridge to Engineering. Mr. McCormick, I hate to bother you about this, but I'm going to need you to wring every drop of warp power out of those precious engines of yours." 

"_I've kept an ear on what's been happening. To catch that madman, Cap'n, I'll give you warp nine, and a bit more_." 

"The effort is appreciated, Mac. Bridge out." He sat back and steepled his fingers. "Mr. Arex, time before we reach the scene." 

"Fifteen minutes, Captain." Arex replied in his clipped tone. 

Apollo slowly nodded. He reached deep to utilize every Vulcan meditation technique he had ever learned to prepare himself for the upcoming confrontation. 

It seemed to come sooner than he expected. "Captain, long range sensors are reporting several starships ahead. Four of them are surrounding a fifth. Sir, it's got to be them." 

"Unless the Klingons are staging this to throw us off." He looked to see if anyone took him seriously. They didn't. "Hail our friends. Drop out of warp. Go to Red Alert." The lights changed, but due to a prior order from Apollo, the klaxon remained silent. 

"I have Captain Kirk, sir." M'ress said. 

"Put me through." He paused. "Greetings, everyone. Is this a private party or can anyone join in?" 

Four faces came up on the screen. Their bridges, like Apollo's, were suffused in red light. One of the faces belonged to Kirk. "_Captain Racer, good of you to come_," he said. 

"Has any fire been exchanged, Jim?" 

"_No, you haven't missed anything yet. Right now, we're just showing off our shields to each other_." 

Apollo was about to say something else when a voice broke over the speakers. "_Federation ships, this is the _Firestone_, Captain Stevens commanding. Can I help you_?" 

"_This is Admiral James T. Kirk of the starship _Enterprise_. And you're no captain, Stevens. Surrender your ship_." 

Stevens laughed. "_Admiral, your wit is legendary. I cannot help but be amused_." 

Apollo snorted. "I think it's safe to say that you're the only one." 

Stevens stopped posturing, the smile wiped off his face. "_Who said that? The voice is familiar, but the man it belongs to is dead._." 

Apollo stood. "Put me on visual with him," he said to M'ress. Stevens' image came up on screen. As they were all patched in to each other, his face showed on their screens as well. "This is Captain Racer of the _Valiant_. Once again, I'm afraid reports of my death have been... greatly exaggerated. You seem to have a big problem with that, _Captain_." 

Stevens became horrified. His eyes bugged out at the aspect of confronting a ghost. "How! No one ever..." Suddenly, Stevens' face became composed. "_Well, Racer, if you weren't dead before, prepare to become so now_." His image disappeared. 

"Oops." Apollo said. "Ladies and gentlemen, I highly suggest we get ready for battle. _Valiant_ out." The screen once again showed the scene before them. 

Sam looked worried. "_Firestone_ is powering up her weapons. And one other thing. While you were talking, I scanned the ship for the damage it received at Starbase 47. They've repaired it. That explains why they took that material on Cordova. I guess we'll get to find out how those Romulan ships felt." 

Apollo nodded. "Hopefully we'll fare better." He watched as _Horizon_'s shields flared brightly under _Firestone_'s first volley. "Here we go, people. Engage the enemy. Arex, evasives as you see fit. Thelem, fire at will." 

_Valiant_ swooped around a phaser blast meant for them. The _Hornet_ was caught by a torpedo volley. She staggered, but held her ground, firing back. _Enterprise_ and _Horizon_ flanked the battle cruiser, throwing everything they had into their attack. The _Firestone_'s shields flared brightly, but showed no signs of failing. They fired all forward torpedoes at the _Bozeman_. The warp-powered weapons proved too much for their shields. They flared briefly, collapsed, and the energy backlash acted like an uppercut to the jaw. Their power went out, and the ship spun helplessly through space. 

On the _Valiant_'s bridge, a flash appeared on the right side of the screen. "What was that? Arex..." 

"On it, sir." The view switched to show the _Horizon_. A torpedo had gotten through her shields, and an ugly glowing scar across the upper surface of the primary hull marked its path. "Grazing hit scored, Captain. Surface damage only." 

"Give me a tactical view across the bottom fifth of the screen." Apollo ordered. Arex complied, and space compressed to make room for a diagram of the ships' locations. "The _Hornet_ looks to be damaged the most. Move to protect..." 

Suddenly, the bridge was slammed sideways as the _Firestone_ hit them with a barrage. Thelem got up off the floor and supported himself by the console as he read a damage report. "Shields held, but they're down to 56 percent." 

"Let's try not to get hit again, shall we people?" Apollo said, crawling back into his chair. 

The two sides exchanged blow for blow for what seemed like hours. Due to the _Firestone_'s advanced weaponry, the factions were equal. The _Valiant_'s crew were working feverishly to hit their targets while at the same time avoid getting hit themselves. Another barrage from the battle cruiser struck them. This time, their seats fell out from underneath them. They were getting used to being bounced around, though, and recovered more quickly. As they did, Sam gasped at the screen. They looked to see the _Hornet_ blazing across their path, dangerously close. One of her nacelles were missing, and burning plasma trailed behind them where it had been severed. From the extent of the damage to her, he couldn't imagine that there was anyone on board left alive. Then Arex initiated an evasive move to avoid a collision. The move also saved them from coming nose-to-nose with a photon torpedo. Apollo punched his comm button. "_Enterprise_, watch where you're shooting." 

"_Sorry, _Valiant," came Kirk's reply. "_They moved out of the way_." 

With the thought of the Hornet still in his mind, Apollo got an idea. "Sam, locate the _Hornet_'s nacelle." 

She went silent for a moment. "Got it," she finally said. "What do you have in mind?" 

"Arex, move toward the nacelle. Prepare to grab it with a tractor beam." 

~ * ~ 

Aboard the _Enterprise_, Kirk watched as the _Valiant_ swept gracefully toward the _Hornet_'s nacelle and locked their tractor beam onto it. "Vat is he doing?" Chekov asked from the weapons station. 

Spock raised an eyebrow. "Interesting. Admiral, are you thinking what he is thinking?" 

Kirk was rubbing his chin. "Yes. I believe it just might work. Let's not give Stevens the chance to find out what he's doing." 

~ * ~ 

Stevens was marveled at the resilience of their resistance. He had no doubts that the _Firestone_ would eventually emerge the victor here, but he had to admire the other captains' tenacity at not giving up. Two of the ships, _Enterprise_ and _Horizon_, despite moderate damage to both ships, redoubled their attempts at disabling his ship. He had seen the _Hornet_ limp away, too damaged to be of much more help to them. And the _Bozeman_ was taken out early in the game. _Valiant_ was swooping around, apparently out of control. Maybe his last strike killed off their bridge crew. He was about to rejoice that he had killed Apollo when the ship swooped toward him. He had just enough time to realize what the _Valiant_ just did before an explosion threw him off his feet. 

When he regained his footing, he saw the damage caused and he went berserk. "You _bastards!!_ How _dare_ you defy me!! I'll show you the penalty for moving against me!!" he raved. "Fire all weapons!" 

Ramsey simply stood there. "They have the advantage! We should give in now while we're still alive!" His argument was made moot as Stevens shot him with a phaser. He screeched as his body's molecules discorporated. 

"Take _that_, you mutineer! I'll show them myself!" Stevens launched himself toward the tactical station and threw everything they had at the task force. 

~ * ~ 

"Disengage tractor beam... now. And evade." 

They watched as the nacelle shot past the ship like a javelin and slammed into the underside of the _Firestone_'s saucer section. At the same time, they and the _Enterprise_ fired on the nacelle. The resulting explosion sent debris into _Firestone_'s port nacelle. While it wasn't sheared off, the damage was more than enough to render it useless. The ship lumbered off in the opposite direction. "Well?" he asked. 

Sam smiled. "As you suspected, that top nacelle can't balance out a warp field without the other two. Their warp drive is out." 

"But they are still dangerous," Thelem commented. As if on cue, they were struck by a full phaser barrage. The lights flickered, dimmed, and went out. For a full minute, the only illumination came from the viewscreen. Their tactical display winked out, and was automatically filled in by the rest of the view. It really wasn't needed anyway. From their vantage point, they could clearly watch helplessly as torpedoes shot from _Firestone_'s ventral aft launchers to slam into _Enterprise_ and _Horizon_, punching through both their weakened shields. _Enterprise_'s navigational array went out, and _Horizon_ received a hole through the dorsal support that connected its two hulls. 

Apollo's comm beeped. "Valiant_, this is _Enterprise. Horizon's_ in trouble, and all but one of our transporters are out._" 

He glanced over at Sam, and she took stock of their situation. "Half of our transporters are out as well," she reported. 

"_Enterprise_, it'll be slow, but I think we can get them out. Can you keep an eye on _Firestone_ for us?" 

"_Will do. Kirk out_." 

Apollo looked at the _Firestone_. The behemoth drifted silently before them. Without action, the captain could clearly tell that their little stunt caused more damage than was visible on Stevens' ship. "Captain," Sam said, "a few of the battle cruiser's weapons systems had fried in our last attack. We're currently in one of the _Firestone_'s blind spots, but I wouldn't guarantee how long that will last." 

He got up and tugged his jacket down. "Thelem, you have the bridge." 

"Captain, are you sure its wise to go over there?" Thelem questioned, concern clearly in his voice. "We're not really sure what that ship is still capable of doing." 

"Then I trust you'll inform me the minute something happens." He headed for the lift. 

"Captain," Sam called out before he was gone, "be careful." The last thing she saw before the doors closed on him was that he winked at her. 

~ * ~ 

He and Sorel materialized on _Horizon's_ bridge. Kirk had the same idea. He had McCoy beamed over, and Kirk himself was just sparkling into existence as Apollo took stock of the situation. The two doctors conferred with each other, then they worked in concert to help _Horizon_'s medical crew stabilize their wounded as quickly as possible. Kirk was heard to say, "See if you can't split these people between the two ships." He turned and saw Apollo surveying the bridge. "We still have to find out what the _Hornet_'s condition is." 

The _Valiant_'s captain shook his head gravely. "We took scans, sir. The _Hornet_'s crew are dead. They simply took too much damage. _Bozeman's_ not so hot either, but I received a message from them stating that they were out of danger. I think they were limping toward the nearest starbase. They're in no condition to be of any help to us." 

Kirk sized Apollo up. "That was a good javelin throw you guys pulled off. Very effective. A bit unorthodox, but effective." 

Apollo nodded his thanks. "Let's get these people off this ship before she blows." 

Kirk headed for the lift, but stopped when he saw Apollo just stand there, looking at the _Firestone_. He then must have realized he was being watched, for he turned and entered the lift with Kirk. They headed down to deck eight, where Apollo suggested they split up. Kirk thought nothing of the suggestion and took off. Then Apollo took a different corridor. 

He found the _Horizon_'s captain just as she was entering the auxiliary bridge. "Captain, we have to leave. Your ship is unstable." 

"The hell I will, Racer! I intend to pay back that ugly, cross-eyed butt for damaging my ship. Besides, I thought the captain was supposed to stay behind." 

Apollo followed her into the bridge. "Those were the old days. Enough life has been lost already. What do you intend to do, anyway?" 

She snorted. "No, enough lives haven't been lost. That son of a bitch killed some of my good people, and I'm not going to let him get away with it." She sat down at the helm and started punching in commands. "I'm going to give him what he wants. I'm going to shove this ship right down his throat." 

Apollo was shocked. "You can't be serious! First of all, I've seen the damage to this ship. You'd have to pilot her manually all the way in, never mind the fact that he could probably still swat you aside. Your efforts would only be futile." 

"It's a chance I'll take. You just make sure you get those other buckets out of here when this baby blows." 

"Besides, I had orders from Starfleet that we were to bring the _Firestone_ back for analysis." 

She shot up out of her chair. "To Hell with Starfleet's orders! And I'm surprised that you're willing to allow that maniac to live! I've read the reports. I know what that bastard put you through. If it were me, I'd have killed the son of a bitch." 

He walked up to her and put a hand on her shoulder. "Those years are past. I don't deny what he did, but I'm not suffering. You're right though, he needs to be taken down." He smiled disarmingly. "I admire your bravery with the way you're willing to sacrifice yourself to save us." He then added pressure to the nerve juncture at the base of her neck, and she slumped in her seat, unconscious. "But I'm afraid that's not your position to take. Don't worry, Captain... justice _will_ be served." He pulled out his communicator. "Racer to _Valiant_. I have another injured person. Lock onto my coordinates and beam her up. Also coordinate with Admiral Kirk to transfer some injured to his ship." 

"_Just her, sir? There's not too many more to take care of. You'll be among the last group_." 

"There's a few more things that I need to take care of. Just beam the injured party over." 

The voice sighed in resignation. "_All right, sir. See you back on board_." At that point, the _Horizon_'s captain disappeared in a transporter beam. 

He sat down in the recently vacated seat. "Computer." 

"_Working_." 

"This is Captain Apollo A. Racer of the _USS Valiant_. In accordance with Starfleet Order 104, Section B, I am assuming command of this vessel." He waited for the response. 

He got one. "_Acknowledged. Transferring command of the _USS Horizon_ to Captain Apollo Racer_," said the computer. 

"Computer, scan the ship for life signs." 

There was a pause. "_There is only one life form on board_." 

"Direct all power, including life support, to shields and propulsion, whatever of each is functioning." 

The computer struggled to comply. "_Shields are now at 34 percent. Warp drive is out. Impulse drive is at 25 percent. Best possible speed is one-quarter impulse._" The computer's report was grim, but it was more than Apollo had hoped for. 

"Okay, pay attention. This is what I want to do." 

~ * ~ 

Thelem shot up from the command chair. "What the hell is the _Horizon_ up to?" His first concern was their captain. He hit the comm button. "Transporter room, did you pick up the captain yet?" 

"_No, sir. He said he had a few things to take care of first_," came the reply. 

Sam's face went pale. Thelem had one more call to make. "M'ress, patch me through to _Enterprise_." He waited until she nodded. "_Enterprise_, this is Commander Thelem of the _Valiant_. Do you have our captain?" 

There was a moment of silence, then Spock's voice came over the speakers. "_Negative. Is he not with you_?" 

Kirk cut in on their conversation. "_This is Kirk. I'm in _Valiant_'s transporter room. I was just about to beam over to my ship when the _Horizon_'s captain beamed aboard here. She's just coming around. She said Apollo was talking to her when he gave her a Vulcan nerve pinch_." 

Thelem spit an Andorian curse that wouldn't translate. "Thank you, sir." He cut the connection. "Get me the _Horizon_." 

M'ress only shrugged. "Sorry, Commander. Their communications were taken out in the battle. Even if they functioned, we couldn't reach him; his comm system is receiving no power." 

Thelem looked to Sam. "Neither of us can move," she said. "_Enterprise_'s drive systems are off-line, and we only have maneuvering thrusters. Besides, we're trying to coordinate medical efforts." She turned back to her viewer. "_Horizon_ moving at one-quarter impulse. Her shields are up, but they're not very strong." 

"Transporter room, beam our captain back over here, now," the first officer said. 

"_Sorry, sir. The _Horizon_'s gotten her shields back. We can't get through them_," came the reply. 

"Damn." Thelem brought his fist down on the console. They watched helplessly as the _Horizon_ slowly turned toward the _Firestone_ on an inexorable course. 

~ * ~ 

The _Enterprise_'s lift doors opened, depositing Kirk onto the bridge. "Spock, is there any way we can stop him?" he pleaded, pounding on his chair for emphasis. 

Spock solemnly shook his head as he relinquished the command chair to his commanding officer. "Negative, Admiral. We simply don't have the power." 

Kirk cursed, pounding his chair again. "Damn it! What the devil is he up to?" His eyes widened as the _Horizon_ closed the gap. 

~ * ~ 

Her eyes widened as the _Horizon_ settled on its course. "Oh my God," Sam exclaimed, "He's going to ram it! Thelem, stop him!" 

"How! Our weapons are out." He hit the comm button. "_Enterprise_, is there anything we can do?" 

Kirk heard the transmission. He turned toward his science officer, who took the gesture as a cue to begin scanning. Spock went through the procedures, but turned back toward Kirk with less than favorable news. "I suggest the only thing we do at this time is to get out of range, quickly." 

Kirk's fury became evident. "I will not allow him to commit suicide!" 

Spock remained calm in the face of this storm he faced. "Admiral, if you recall, the _Horizon_ was unstable. Apollo understands this, and is using it to our advantage. I merely point out the only logical solution. Remaining here will only result in our destruction as well." 

"But Starfleet..." 

Spock cut off Kirk's protest. "Apparently, Apollo believes that an incident such as this would repeat itself if the _Firestone_ were kept intact; he no doubt feels the battle cruiser is an atrocity that should never have been explored as an option. I tend to agree." 

Kirk stared at the floor, not comprehending, forcing himself not to believe. Spock silently came down to stand at Kirk's side. "Jim," he said quietly, finally. "He has made his decision. Let him go, so we can get to safety." 

Kirk gazed deeply into his friend's eyes. Seeing the truth in them, he made one of the hardest choices he could ever make. "Get us out of here." 

"But, Admiral..." Sulu started to protest. 

"Now, Mr. Sulu. Move it." His tone indicated he wouldn't have any further argument. "Inform _Valiant_ of our decision. Tell them they should do the same. If they protest, tell them to get out of here on my order." He collapsed in his chair, burying his face in his hands. 

In silence, the two ships crept away from the inevitable. 

~ * ~ 

Stevens was moving from station to station, checking their status. He didn't like what he saw. Several systems were off-line. They couldn't go anywhere; he still had some weapons systems up, but without shields, he couldn't withstand retaliation. 

He caught a blip on an intermittent sensor reading. Just before he lost it due to instrument damage, he trained the main viewscreen on it. The image changed to reveal the crippled _Horizon_, lumbering towards him, its intentions obvious. Well, he couldn't have that now. Moving toward the rear of the bridge, he trained what weapons he had left to bear on the juggernaut. 

~ * ~ 

Sam stifled a gasp as phasers lanced out from the _Firestone_ and sheared the _Horizon_'s port nacelle clean off. The blast shook the ship, stopping her forward motion and sending her slowly spinning in a circle. A few moments later, she righted herself and continued her charge. "He's going to tear Apollo apart, piece by piece." Her look pleaded with Thelem, but he was helpless as to what was going on. 

They had complied with Admiral Kirk's order, and were struggling to leave the area, but they kept the viewscreen trained behind them to record the final moments of Apollo Racer. 

~ * ~ 

Phaser fire erupted from _Firestone_ again. It carved through the portside section of the primary hull, and at the same time, another lance tore through the bridge and destroyed it and the impulse drive reactors behind it. Again, the ship stopped. For a long time, the _Horizon_ drifted lazily in death. 

On the _Enterprise_, McCoy slowly shook his head. "That's got to be it. The bridge is gone and his impulse drive is out. He can't possibly survive any more." 

"Perhaps, doctor." Spock said dispassionately. 

As if the derelict had heard him, it slowly stopped drifting. It's port side faced the _Firestone_ as its maneuvering thrusters were brought to bear. It was drifting again, but this time it was controlled, and once again, it was heading for the battle cruiser. 

McCoy was virtually hanging on Kirk's chair. "Good Lord... he just doesn't stop, does he?" 

Kirk just watched the screen. He knew of the grudge Apollo had against Stevens. "No, Bones... he doesn't," he said with a touch of sadness. 

~ * ~ 

Another blast shook the ship, but Apollo managed to keep the _Horizon_ moving in the right direction. "Computer, engage self-destruct subroutine, and initiate immediate detonation on my command, authorization Racer Alpha 215 Omega." 

The console whirred and chirped, signaling that it was processing the orders just given to it. The length of time it took told Apollo that part of the computer core had been damaged. Finally, it spit out, "Self-destruct countdown disengaged. Awaiting order for instantaneous destruct." 

Apollo watched as what was left of the port lateral sensors kept a static-filled image of his target in view. The _Firestone_ kept hammering away at the ship, but at this point, Apollo wouldn't be surprised if his own will weren't somehow holding it together. As that thought formed in his mind, his spine tingled. Apollo smiled as an idea struck him, and he realized that he wasn't as doomed as he thought he was. 

~ * ~ 

Spock had started ticking off time and distance to impact. It was getting on Kirk's nerves. "We are at 100,000 kilometers, 20 seconds to impact," the Vulcan said. 

"Please, Spock," Kirk pleaded. 

"If it is any consolation, Admiral, Captain Racer is no longer in an effective position to be fired upon." 

McCoy snorted. "Gee, thanks, I feel so much better." 

The seconds ticked away in silence. Then, the bridge crew looked on in horror as the two ships collided. 

~ * ~ 

The _Valiant_'s crew kept no tally on speed and distance, but they were equally relieved and remorseful. The _Firestone_ could no longer fire on Apollo, but that merely told them just how close he was to his target. Sam turned away and silently cried as the two ships collided. 

~ * ~ 

The _Horizon_ filled the viewscreen. Stevens stared at it slack-jawed, realizing that none of his weapons could touch it; as that realization hit, somehow he knew that Racer was aboard that ship, guiding it to his destruction. As the computer warned that a collision was imminent, Stevens finally realized that he had lost; that Apollo had once again ruined things for him. He faced the screen, trembling with rage and screamed, "DAMN YOU, RACERRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!" as the bridge exploded around him. 

~ * ~ 

"Computer," Apollo started. On the one hand, if his last minute plan worked, the galaxy would be rid of Stevens and he'd still be around to enjoy it. If it didn't work... well, the galaxy would still be rid of Stevens. "Computer... detonate." 

"Acknowledged. Initiating self-destruct." 

Apollo winced, crossed his fingers, and concentrated. There was a flash as the ship detonated. 

~ * ~ 

The crews of both ships started at the explosion. Kirk's face jerked up from his hands, McCoy's eyes widened to saucers, and the rest of the _Enterprise_'s bridge crew had their own faces of shock. On the _Valiant_, Sam spun her tear-streaked face toward the screen in time to watch the _Horizon_'s explosion triggered a warp core breach in the _Firestone_. Both ships disappeared in a tremendous ball of flame that could have easily been mistaken as a star going nova. The nearby, drifting _Hornet_ was caught up in the blast, and joined the conflagration. Then the shock wave reached the two ships, and they rocked and struggled to ride it out. 

As was over as quickly as it started. The screen had blanked out when the explosion grew too bright. When the image returned, they gazed at a nebulous cloud of debris and plasma residue where the nova was at its brightest. Sam immediately broke down and cried, not wanting to believe what was real, that the man who spent years trying to find her just went up in a spectacular explosion. 

Kirk stared absently at his recently recovered screen. "My... God, Bones. What has he done?" 

McCoy wanted to say something, but no words came from his mouth. 

The comm at Kirk's chair twittered. "_Engineering to Bridge_." From the tone in Scotty's voice, he had witnessed the whole thing as well. "_If it means anythin' right now, Admiral, ye've got warp speed again_." 

Kirk stared at his chair arm for a moment, then acknowledged his engineer. "Well done, Scotty. We'll stay around long enough to get the _Valiant_ back up and running, then we'll leave." 

"_Aye, sir_," came the reply, then the connection was cut. 

He was about to ask Uhura to open a line to the other ship when something on Spock's board attracted his attention. He studied the sensor readouts. "Admiral. I'm picking up a strange energy reading from the immediate area of the explosion." 

Kirk leapt up and moved to look at Spock's finding. "Awfully small. Doesn't even look stable." 

Sulu offered a suggestion. "Shall I move closer for a better look?" 

Kirk waved off the comment. "That area would still be flooded with radiation." 

McCoy had wandered over for a look. He was surprised with what he saw. "Jim, I recognize those energy readings. From the barrier." 

Spock understood. "Indeed. And the incident on Arcadia." 

Enlightenment shone in Kirk's widening eyes. "Get us back there! Best possible speed!" he snapped at Sulu. He slammed his fist down on the comm button. "Scotty, I need at least one transporter up and running in five minutes." 

He heard a groan from the other end. "_Aye, sir. Ah'll see what I kin do_." Scotty signed off. 

They felt the ship as it whirled around to return to the scene of the battle; the fact that they could feel it was testimony to how much of a pounding the ship had taken. Now it was being asked to whip around and go back into an irradiated area. But Kirk knew that the lady would hold out for him. 

~ * ~ 

Thelem was trying to comfort Sam when he noticed what was going on. "What is the _Enterprise_ doing?" 

"She's heading back to the scene," Arex reported. 

"M'ress, open a channel." Thelem waited until the Caitian complied, then spoke out. "_Enterprise_, this is _Valiant_. Sir, what is going on?" 

"_On a rescue mission. We'll talk later. Kirk out_," was his only reply. 

Starfleet training taking over, Sam used her station. "Commander, it appears as though the _Enterprise_ is checking out an unknown energy reading in the vicinity of the debris cloud." 

"Can we follow them?" 

"Negative. We still won't have impulse power for at least another day. They'll be there in five minutes at their present speed." 

Thelem shrugged in a defeated attitude and sat heavily in the command chair. "I guess we'll just have to wait until they get back." 

~ * ~ 

The _Enterprise_ reached the outer perimeter of the cloud. "Can we use the transporter?" Kirk asked. 

Spock knew better by now than to give him a negative answer. "It may be possible, if not probable. I would highly suggest that Mr. Scott handle the controls." 

"Agreed. Mr. Scott," Kirk stated, riding on hope. 

"I've got one running, but we can't get too many jolts." As if to emphasize his point, the _Enterprise_ trembled as they rode through an aftershock. 

"Understood. As soon as you get any type of lock, energize." Kirk spun and gestured to McCoy. Together they made their way to the turbolift. "Apprise me of any changes, Spock." 

In no time at all, the two of them appeared in the transporter room. Scotty looked up from his manipulations. "Admiral, I canna guarantee anything. A solid lock is nae possible. It keeps fluctuating on me." 

"I trust your judgment, Scotty. Energize when you feel right about it." 

They waited for what seemed an eternity. Then without warning, Scotty activated the controls. A column of light apeared on the platform. A figure tried to materialize, but it faded in and out. Scotty twiddled a control here and nudged a control there, and he finally managed to get enough of a boost on the signal for the form suspended in mid-air above the platform to fully solidify. Once that was done, he collapsed onto the floor, his uniform in tatters. McCoy was on the platform and next to the figure before Kirk could so much as glance in his direction. 

The doctor ran his medical scanner over the body. "It's Apollo, all right. He's alive, but I can't give you any good reason why." 

"Will he make it?" Kirk asked. 

"Yeah, he'll make it. His body's just exhausted, that's all. He has some radiation poisoning, but a quick trip to Sickbay will clear that up." 

Kirk smiled for the first time since this whole ordeal began. He walked over to the console. "Let's get ourselves out of here before we wind up needing the same thing. Kirk to Bridge," he said, activating the comm on the console, "Head back to the _Valiant_. I'm sure they'd like to hear the good news." He looked up at his chief engineer. "Well done, Scotty. A miracle truly worthy of your name." 

"Ah, thank ye, sir. But I think I had a wee bit o' help." He nodded toward the still form being loaded on a stretcher that just arrived. "He kept himself stable just long enough for me to get a lock on him. But thank ye just the same." 

Kirk clapped Scotty on the shoulder and followed McCoy to Sickbay. 


	21. Origins Chapter Twenty-One

_CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE_

Light penetrated the darkness. It started with a dim blue glow. Then other colors gradually introduced themselves, producing a blurred image. Borders became more pronounced, shapes could be recognized, and finally Apollo's vision focused, allowing him to see Sam leaning over him in Sickbay. She was smiling, tears dripping down her face, and she gripped his hand gently. "How are you feeling?" she asked quietly. 

He tried to speak, failed, then coughed to clear his throat. "Like someone hit me with a photon torpedo," he croaked. He tried to look around, but the slightest head movement caused pain to explode colorfully in his sight. "I am assuming I'm not dead. If so, where am I?" 

McCoy moved into view. "Well, if I had a day of shore leave for every time you should have been dead, by all rights, I could retire right now. As for where you are, you're on the _Enterprise_, in Sickbay. That was quite a stunt you pulled." 

"Yes, it was. I'm curious as to how you managed it." Kirk's voice came from somewhere in the room, but since Apollo didn't want another fireworks display in his head, he didn't check on the Admiral's exact location. 

McCoy looked up and to his side in an expression of annoyance. "Why don't you just ask him if he's seen a bright light at the end of a dark tunnel? For cryin' out loud, Jim, could you can the questioning for now? The man has just seen the inside of a matter/antimatter explosion. He's not going to be in the best of health, I don't care what he can do. Now if you can't lend support, then get out of my Sickbay!" 

Kirk said nothing, but Apollo heard the Sickbay doors open and close. "Sorry about that, Captain," McCoy said, "he can be a bit impatient sometimes. I think once in a while his flag rank goes to his head, and he thinks he can get answers whenever he wants them. Now that I think of it, he's always like that. Personally, I thought it was a mistake for him to accept promotion. But hey, I'm just an old country doctor. What do I know?" 

The corners of Apollo's mouth turned up. "Enough to bring me back from the other side. Thank you, Doctor." His voice was improving, but it still had a raspy edge to it. 

His comment brought a smile to McCoy. "Well, I had help, but I'm glad I can do something right," he said with sarcasm. He looked at Sam and put a hand on her shoulder. "He still needs to rest, so if you could just limit yourself to just a few minutes." 

She nodded. "I will. Thanks." McCoy left Apollo's field of vision, and Sam smiled at him again. "I hope you didn't do that to try and get out of marrying me." She started to cry. "Don't ever pull a stunt like that again, you bastard." 

He moaned. "Listen to this," he croaked hoarsely, "I'm a bloody mess, and you're bitching me out." 

That brought a nervous chuckle from her. She remained silent for a moment, gently holding his hand. "Nice work out there. Kinda selfish to think you could sacrifice yourself like that, but I'm glad that part of your plan didn't work out." 

"So am I. But truthfully, I didn't expect to leave the picture back there." Her smile left her in confusion. "I'll elaborate later. Let's just say that I knew what I was doing. Now, like McCoy said, I need some rest. Talk to you later, love?" 

"Count on it." She gently kissed him on the forehead and left Apollo to sleep. 

~ * ~ 

A week later, with the _Valiant_ completing her field repairs, Apollo was given a clean bill of health by a begrudged Dr. McCoy. He wasn't too trustful of Apollo's advanced recuperative powers, but he couldn't deny they worked. However, he took satisfaction in restricting Apollo's activities, stating that powers or no, the captain still needed to completely heal. Apollo was about to head to the transporter room to return to the _Valiant_ when Kirk approached. 

"Well, I see you're doing better," he said. 

It was a sad attempt to cover his true reason for catching Apollo, and the captain saw right through it. "Yes, I am. Thank you, sir." Getting the politeness aside, he cut to the chase. "I take it you want those answers now." 

"I respected Bones' orders not to question you while you were laid up. Now that you're on your feet again, I deserve a report. How was it you were able to survive the disintegration of three starships in a matter/antimatter explosion?" Kirk seemed a little nervous. 

Apollo sensed that Kirk wasn't all that anxious to find out. "I almost didn't, sir." He studied the admiral for a moment. "I sense that you're having a hard time with this." 

Kirk joined Apollo while he resumed his walk toward the transporter room. "I'll admit I'm curious. I wouldn't have bothered you; hell, I wouldn't have even brought it up at the time, but the brass was breathing down my neck..." 

"Forgive my interruption, sir, but I thought you were part of 'the brass.'" 

"I am, but I still have a superior, and it's still Starfleet Command. They want to know, and when they want to find something out, they expect answers yesterday." 

Apollo studied Kirk for a moment in silence. "It'll be in my report." 

Kirk stopped him again. "Dammit, Apollo, I need to know." 

"As my superior officer, or as a friend?" The question hit lower than Apollo had expected it to. He could swear he saw Kirk almost wince at that remark. 

Sam came from the other end of the corridor. "Captain, are you ready to...?" She immediately saw the tension between the two men. "What's going on?" 

Kirk looked at them both. "Your captain was about to explain to me about how he managed to live through that catastrophe. Weren't you, Captain." 

"It was all quite simple. The reason why I survived is because I wasn't in the explosion." 

"Would you care to elaborate on that?" Kirk asked. Sam's mouth was too busy hanging open to say anything. 

Apollo took her by the shoulders. "Do you remember when I told you about the time I ran to rescue Skip and Karen?" He turned to Kirk. "And how I vaporized that boulder on Arcadia with my eye beams? Well, just before I gave the _Horizon's_ computer the order to self-destruct, a thought popped into my head." He paused in thought for a moment. "Actually, you could more accurately call it a revelation of sorts. I suddenly knew what I could do to get out of that mess intact, more or less. So as the blast hit, I teleported out of the scene." 

"What?!" the two of them said in unison. Apparently, Sam had found her voice. 

Apollo shrugged. "I teleported; in essence, I winked out of existence during the explosion, then came back. Unfortunately, I didn't take into account the _Hornet_ getting caught in the explosion. It was that ship that nearly did me in." 

Kirk felt a piece to the puzzle click into place. "That energy reading. When you were shot with that spiderweb gun, the doctor's report stated that a type of shield developed around you." 

Apollo nodded as he saw Kirk's understanding. "It was that same shield that came into place when I rematerialized. I think it's a type of autonomic response." 

"The shield must not have been strong enough if you were hurt," Sam guessed. 

"No, it wasn't. It's strong enough to protect me from open space, but in a starship explosion? I'll admit I was surprised myself when I found that I wasn't instantly fried. I think that was why I was in such a weakened state. The shield must have drawn from my own energy reserves to sustain itself. If I hadn't teleported in the first place, I really would have bought the farm." He returned his attention to Kirk. "Admiral, a detailed version of what I just said will be made directly to you. But for privacy's sake, just like Arcadia's incident, I have to ask that you... 'edit' certain points in the report to conceal my abilities." 

Kirk nodded. "That might be difficult. It's not every day that people survive starship explosions." 

Apollo paced a little. He had to admit that he was in a jam. "Admiral... Jim... there must be some way we can work around my details. Couldn't we classify my contribution to the Firestone's destruction? Or maybe claim I made it to an escape pod at the last minute and miraculously escaped the explosion. Stranger things have happened." 

Kirk shook his head. "No. There's no way we could do that. Starfleet would just get more suspicious. I'm sorry Apollo, I'm afraid this can't be covered." Suddenly Kirk had an idea. "You know, what we could do is give a very brief description of what you did. Then you could leave a more detailed copy of that report in your personal log, seal it in Command's archives until such a time that you see fit for them to be released." 

"Thank you, sir. I would really appreciate it. Now, if you'll permit us, I have to return to my ship." 

Kirk gave Apollo and Sam his trademark grin and waved them off. "Go on. Get out of here. I'm sure you two have certain 'duties' to perform. And Apollo. Glad to have you back. Just don't make a habit of this." 

"Yes, sir. It's good to be back. Until next time." He and Sam turned and once again he started toward the transporter room. 

~ * ~ 

Stepping from the platform, Apollo saw a stunned Thelem waiting for them. "For a man who just witnessed a starship explosion from the inside out, you look remarkably healthy." 

"Thank you, Commander. What's our status." 

"We just barely got our warp drive back on line, sir. If we push it, we can keep up with the _Enterprise_ as we make our way for the nearest starbase." 

"And that would be?" 

"Starbase 26, sir." 

Apollo nodded in approval. "I'm sure neither of us will be racing any time soon. Best speed to Starbase 26, then." 

They returned to the bridge, and Apollo cringed. He had forgotten how it had looked, or maybe that's why the bridge has subdued lighting when they go to Red Alert... so they wouldn't be distracted by any damage suffered during combat. 

In normal lighting, though, there was no mistaking it. The bridge was a mess. "Eeeww. Did we do this?" Apollo said, making a face. 

"No, sir," Thelem replied. "The _Firestone_ did this." 

The captain sighed. "Just one more mess to clean up after them." 

Sam leaned toward Apollo and said in a low tone. "Just remember what you did to him. That should be enough to overlook this." 

Apollo looked grim. "No, Sam. What I did to Stevens, I did because I had to. There simply wasn't any way we could take Stevens into custody, and I wasn't about to have any more lives lost. Despite my grudge, I did not enjoy what I had to do." 

He scanned the bridge, taking in all the damage. The weapons console was blown out, making control of them from the bridge useless. The communications board was opened and bypassed left and right, giving testimony as to how far M'ress went to keep the systems active. Looking between the two stations, Apollo realized that she even cannibalized parts from the weapons console to make her own system work. He gave a silent nod of approval. 

The room still smelled of burned insulation and charred flesh. This was another thing that escaped Apollo in battle. Any smell tends to be ignored and filed away for later. In fact, the smell of the bridge brought Apollo back to the day he took his command test. The bridge of the "Endeavor" smelled the same way. Come to think of it, it nearly looked the same way as well. "Another no-win situation avoided," he muttered under his breath. 

His attention returned to the present. "Starfleet Command calling Apollo Racer, please come in." 

The voice was coming not from the comm system, but from Sam. "Huh? Did you say something?" 

She nodded. "You were a million light-years away. What's on your mind." 

He shrugged. "Oh, just thinking of memories." He clapped his hands, more to completely shake the cobwebs from his brain than to draw attention. "Okay, people. We have a lot of work to do before we get to Starbase 26. Let's hop to it." 

Sam grabbed his arm and started for the turbolift. "_We_ don't have to do anything," she said. "_You_ have to go rest, or have you already forgotten what Dr. McCoy said." 

They reached the turbolift and the doors opened. Apollo looked at her, annoyed. "Commander, I do believe you are out of line. Dr. McCoy isn't assigned to my ship." 

"That statement is true." Apollo saw Sorel standing in the lift. "However, I am assigned to this ship, and since Dr. McCoy contacted me and told me what to expect, I considered it logical that the first place you would go after beaming aboard would be the bridge. Therefore, I am here to see if you need assistance to reach your quarters." 

Sam spoke slyly to Sorel. "You know, doctor, if he resists, we could always bring him to Sickbay. I'm sure that even in his enhanced condition, he would still be susceptible to a Vulcan nerve pinch." 

Apollo looked back and forth from Sam to Sorel. "You know," he said, mimicking Sam, "I could have both of you busted for mutiny." 

"That would certainly be the case, if the Chief Medical Officer could not override the captain's orders. If you resist, I shall be forced to make a judgment on your mental competence." 

Apollo's eyes narrowed to slits. "You wouldn't dare," he said venomously. 

Sorel stood impassive, showing no sign of backing down. 

Now the captain showed mock surprise. "You would." After still being answered with silence, Apollo sighed heavily. "Mr. Thelem," he called over his shoulder, "you're still in command until after I've rested." The last word he said through clenched teeth, directed mostly toward his two "captors." Then the two of them joined Sorel in the lift. 


	22. Origins Chapter Twenty-Two

_CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO_

After three days, the _Enterprise_ had reached Starbase 26; the _Valiant_ arrived two days later. Thelem was going to tell M'ress to contact the captain, but her board was torn apart. He decided to tell Apollo himself, and entered the turbolift. "Computer," he stated, "what is the location of Captain Racer?" 

"_Destination please,_" the computer politely responded. 

"I said, where is Captain Racer?" 

"_The shuttle bay is located on deck 16,_" said the computer. 

Thelem took a deep breath. "I _know_ where the shuttle bay is. Tell me where Captain _Racer_ is." Being an Andorian, Thelem ran a little short in the supply of patience. 

The computer paused. "_Destination, please,_" it cheerfully queried. 

"How in the five hells can I tell you my destination if you don't tell me where CAPTAIN RACER is!!!!?" Thelem stood there, clearly angry, taking one heaving breath after another. 

The computer whirred, chirruped and blipped for a full two minutes. "_Captain Racer is in Engineering._" 

Thelem took one last breath, slowly letting it out through his teeth, calming himself forcefully. "Thank you. Engineering." The turbolift promptly sped down. He leaned against the wall and remained in that position until he felt the lift stop. When the doors opened, he was surprised to find himself on the right level. He strode out of the lift at a brisk pace. When he reached Engineering, the doors opened, but only a few inches. This cut through the last of his patience. Bracing himself, he gripped both doors and forced them open with a feral growl. 

McCormick was standing on the other side, staring at him. "Do ye have a problem, Commander?" 

Thelem's face flushed a deep blue. "Could you please direct me to the captain?" he said with a forced politeness. 

"Sure I ken, laddie. He's right over there. Why didn't ye just use the comm system?" 

Thelem growled at the chief engineer and stormed over to where he had been directed. A pair of legs were sticking out from underneath a console next to a wall over by the intermix chamber, and a uniform jacket was hanging on the chair. He checked the rank on the shoulder to insure that he was bothering the right person. "Captain?" he asked tentatively. 

Sounds from under the console had stopped, and Apollo came out from underneath the console. "Oh. Hello, Commander. What can I do for you?" 

Thelem stood there as he realized that with the ordeal he had in getting here, he had forgotten what he had come down here for. Searching his memory, he remembered. "Captain, I came down here to inform you that we're arriving at Starbase 26." 

Apollo looked a little bewildered. "Why didn't you just use the comm system?" 

Thelem fought back another shade of blue attempting to color his face. He failed. "The, ah, comm system is down, Captain. M'ress is in the middle of working on it." 

"Oh, I see." Apollo jumped up and brushed himself off, though there was nothing there to brush off. "In that case, let's go." He saw McCormick at the other end of the room. "Hey, Mac, do you have everything under control?" 

The Scotsman turned and gave Apollo a cheerful smile. "Aye, sir. There isn't anything I canna handle here. Thank ye for your help." 

"My pleasure, Mac. We've reached Starbase 26, so you'll be getting some more help. If you'd like, I'll leave word with them that they don't do anything without your approval." 

"I'd appreciate that, sir." Mac said. Apollo grabbed his jacket and started putting it on as he left Engineering with Thelem. 

"Uh, Captain, I suggest we take an alternate route to the bridge." 

"Why? Something wrong with the lift?" Before Thelem could answer, they stepped into the lift and Apollo commanded, "Bridge." The lift took off, much to Thelem's amazement. His disbelief was furthered when the lift deposited them onto the bridge, as ordered. Apollo turned to his first officer and shrugged. "Seems fine to me." And he walked out. 

Thelem stayed in the lift for one second more, then left before the doors could close on him. He headed over to his station, breathing through his teeth. As he looked around the bridge to see if anyone noticed his condition, he saw Sam staring at him with a look that clearly said, "Problem, sir?" They both said nothing, however, leaving Apollo some silence. 

"M'ress, what is the status of our comm system?" the captain inquired. 

She jerked back with a hiss as a shower of sparks cascaded over her board. Defeated, she slumped in her chair. "I'm sorry, sir. I'm afraid that communications are beyond my skills to repair." 

Apollo could tell that she felt completely frustrated; her tail was whipping back and forth excitedly. He gave her a warm smile and laid a hand on her shoulder. "It's okay, M'ress. You did your best. Actually, with the pounding we took, I'm surprised that anything works around here. Good job, Commander. Whatever you couldn't do I'm sure the boys on the starbase can take care of." Her spirits brightened visibly, and her tail calmed down. 

Apollo, meanwhile, turned his attention to the screen. "I guess the only way they're going to find out we're here is if we either dock or if either the _Enterprise_ or the _Bozeman_ managed to get a message to them." 

"If the ships couldn't say anything, I doubt they would be prepared for us." Thelem said. Apollo nodded once in agreement. 

The ships were on final approach when they noticed Work Bees and cargo shuttles scrambling to meet them. Shuttle tugs came up to the ships to tow them into position. Apollo looked at his first officer. "Well, it looks as though someone got a message through. That must be the base's entire maintenance complement out there. I wouldn't be surprised if they called other bases and ships for help. We really are a motley crew coming in. Mr. Arex," he paused, "as soon as one of those tugs lock onto us, shut down engines. They're designed to reel us in, so we'll let them do their job." 

"Aye, aye, sir." Arex barely got his answer out when they felt a slight shudder. "A tug has just locked on now. Shutting down engines." 

"Good. Prepare to shut down all non-essential power. We don't need to be here when we dock. Let's go tell everyone to prepare to disembark." Apollo headed for the turbolift. Thelem, Sam, and M'ress followed him in; the others would wait until the car was available again, as the other lift wasn't working. 

As they ran into crewmen while heading down to the transporter room, they had them pass the news of their arrival along to everyone they saw. From there, they beamed into a reception area at the starbase. A commodore was waiting for them. Once they completely materialized, he came forward. "Captain, welcome back. Commodore Brinkley. We heard what happened. Frankly, I didn't expect you to be as worse for wear as you are. Of course, with you and Kirk out there, I should have known that everyone would come back." 

Suddenly, Apollo's face transformed. Sam couldn't believe that a man could go from relief to rage in a split second, but Apollo managed. Before the commodore could react, the starship captain was in his face. "On the contrary, everyone did _not_ come back. Just because we're out there doesn't mean that everything will be all right. A lot of good people died out there, people that I had to watch die. Now, I don't know the path you took to land this job at this base, but I will never get used to what I saw out there. Right now, I'm thankful that anyone even came back to tell the tale. So now if you'll excuse me, I have to write reports of the incident and letters to next-of-kin." He stormed away from Brinkley. After taking three steps, he stopped, turned around, and snapped, "Sir." He continued out of the room. 

When Brinkley turned to the people that arrived with Apollo, he was completely stunned, both with the concept of the captain's speech as well as his blatant insubordination. If he expected to get any sympathy with Apollo's crew, he found none. Instead, they provided complete support for their captain, and with looks of sympathy, they silently followed their captain out of the room. 

~ * ~ 

She found her fiancé in a general office, reserved for visiting officers like himself, doing exactly what he said he had to do; he was entering his report on a computer terminal on the desk. She didn't disturb him, and he gave no sign that he knew she was there. 

He stopped tapping commands in and sat there, presumably proofreading his report. Giving a grim nod of satisfaction, he entered the commands that would send it to Starfleet Command, while at the same time copying it for his personal records. With that done, he reached under the desk and pulled up a briefcase, something she didn't recall him bringing here. He opened it up, and pulled out a few sheets of old-fashioned paper and a pen. Replacing the briefcase under the desk, he began writing. 

She couldn't keep quiet with this. "What are you doing now?" 

He continued writing until he hit a snag, then looked up. "When someone under my command has died, and I can't tell them in person, I send them a letter." 

"Couldn't you just send them a message through normal channels? I mean, this is so time-consuming, and it's more energy expensive to send it this way." 

Apollo put down his pen and sat back, arms crossed. "That's too impersonal to me; there's no feeling in it. And which do you think is more time-consuming, writing about a person's death, or the actual act of that death itself? That person has ceased to exist. Nothing is more consuming than that. I think it's worth it for their loved ones to know that I actually cared about that person. I only wish I could do more, but that's impractical; I've simply lost too many people in my career." 

Sam started to understand his position. "So... you're going to write to the families of each person that died." 

"No, just the ones under my command. As cold as it sounds, it's up to the other ship commanders to deal with their own. But, yes, for everyone assigned to the _Valiant_ who died, I will send a letter to their families, in this fashion. I'd invite you to stay, but as you said, it is a tedious process. I may be here a while." 

Sam stood there, fully comprehending his feelings in the matter. Making her decision, she silently walked over to him and sat down next to him. He smiled with gratitude, and as he continued writing, she leaned her head against his shoulder, and watched him as he put his personal condolences down on paper. 

~ * ~ 

"With the conclusion of the _Firestone_ incident, it gives me great pleasure and honor to perform this function." Commodore Brinkley was beaming, the troubles of last week behind him. "I rarely get to be the official at a wedding. Usually it's the captain on board a ship who performs the ceremony. But it would be a little difficult for a captain to officiate his own wedding. Such occasions are rare, though. 

"Starship captains usually don't have the time for a serious relationship. They prefer the relationship between themselves and their ships. There are times when the exceptional few need more than their ship. A ship can't go on shore leave with you, can't understand the difficulties of your position, can't help or comfort you with decisions you have to make, as hard as they can be. Therefore it is an obvious privilege when we can come together to celebrate the joining Captain Apollo Racer, and his bride, Commander Samantha Taylor." 

They had to use the main work bay for the ceremony. It was feasible because all the maintenance crews were working around the clock to repair the ships docked there; it was also feasible for the fact that so many people showed up. As a matter of convenience, the crews of the damaged ships and off-duty starbase personnel were among the attendants. The crew of the _Valiant_ and the senior officers of the _Enterprise_ were in front. It was easy to tell where Kirk's group was; McCoy was there, apparently the only one tugging at the collar of his dress uniform. 

"Bones, stop fidgeting," Kirk mumbled from the corner of his mouth. 

"Can't help it, Jim. For some reason they always make these things too damn uncomfortable." 

"Perhaps the irritation is merely psychological," Spock said from McCoy's other side. The doctor growled under his breath in response. 

"Can ye not go anywhere without arguin' with each other?" Scotty asked from behind them. 

"You know the doctor, Meester Scott. He is not happy unless he has someting to argue about," Chekov replied. 

"People, do you mind? We're at a wedding," Kirk said, shutting them all up. 

They all became immediately silent. Spock raised his eyebrow, as if to say "I didn't do anything wrong." 

Kirk shook his head. "I can't take you anywhere anymore." 

Uhura never heard them; she was busy admiring Sam's dress. "She looks so beautiful." The dress was a traditional wedding dress, floor length, with puffed shoulders, a lace front, and long sleeves ending in half-gloves. It had no back, but with the veil in place, no one could see that. 

Apollo and Sam had discussed what she would wear. He already agreed on his dress uniform, even though he was surprised that what he normally wore could be even more elaborate. He suggested that Sam wear her dress uniform, too. But she had already made her mind up, saying she'd like to wear a traditional dress. After dragging Karen into the argument, Apollo, outnumbered, caved in. 

The entire exchange between the _Enterprise_ officers went unnoticed by the rest of the spectators. They were too enraptured by the scene taking place before them. The ceremony finally concluded, and with the stars in the background, held off by an environmental force field, Apollo and Sam kissed. On cue, two-man fighters assigned to the base sped by the open bay releasing photon torpedoes that exploded into fireworks. The bay was filled with cheers and laughter. 

Apollo and Sam turned and faced the crowd, smiling broadly. As they started to walk down the "aisle", Apollo spotted Chekov making his way to the rear of the bay. Commander Sulu was there beside a strange contraption that looked suspiciously like a cannon. 

Chekov reached his friend. "Hurry, Hikaru. Ve vill only get one shot at this." 

"Hang on," Sulu replied. He had an impish grin on his face. When the couple reached the halfway point on their walk, he touched a control on the gun. "Fire one." 

The gun reported, sending a mini-torpedo into the air above the crowd. The crowd gasped collectively as it exploded near the ceiling. Apollo looked up as tiny white debris pelted them from above. "ACK!" was all he could get out. Sulu, in the meantime, shot three more torpedoes into the air to explode in succession. 

"What the hell!?" Sam screamed. 

Apollo held out a hand and caught some of the white rain. After giving it a cursory examination, he started laughing hard. "Rice! He actually shot us with rice! The scoundrel." 

Sulu walked up to Apollo. "Congratulations, Captain. Normally, we don't throw rice at weddings anymore, but I figured that with you, we could make an exception." 

Apollo held his arms up and gestured to the rice that was still falling. "You call this throwing rice? Good Lord!" He reached out and shook Sulu's hand, clapping him on the shoulder at the same time. "Well done, man." He turned to his new bride. "C'mon. Let's get out of here before we're buried alive." 


	23. Origins Chapter Twenty-Three

_CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE_

The reception was anticlimactic. The newlyweds mingled with the crowd, receiving congratulations and giving thanks. Uhura had caught the bouquet, Scotty the garter. Their crewmates had laughed about it, but the new couple could have sworn they saw abject embarrassment on the two officers' faces. Apollo couldn't help but wonder if there was a story behind it. 

When it was over, Sam found Apollo back in the work bay. Most of the rice had been cleaned up already. He was standing over by the force field, gazing out at the stars. By looking far to the right, they could see the crews working on one of the ships; judging by the locations of damage on the vessel, Sam surmised that it was the _Enterprise_. "This view is tremendous," she said, her voice softly echoing through the empty bay. 

Apollo turned from his stargazing. "Hmm? Oh, yes, it certainly is." He slowly strode up to her. "I find, however, that I am currently attracted to a sight more beautiful than the stars." He brushed his lips across a blushing cheek. 

"You're too much," she said, playfully batting him. 

He wanted to hold her close, but he acted as if she was as fragile as china. She, however, had no compunction; she grabbed him and pulled herself close to him, unconcerned by the delicacy of her dress. "I'm sure you know by now that I won't break," she said, as though reading his thoughts, "and the dress will survive." She guided him down so they could share a more intimate kiss. 

It only lasted a few seconds before they were interrupted by someone clearing his throat. They looked up to see that Kirk had just entered the bay. "Thought I'd find you two here," he said, walking toward him. "I missed my chance at the reception to kiss the bride." He gave Sam a quick peck on the cheek. 

"Well, you did give me away at the ceremony. I never thought of you as the shy type." 

"Actually, I was scared. One wrong move, and I was afraid your husband would blow me to kingdom come." They shared a laugh. "Congratulations, Apollo. I'm sure you two will be happy together." 

"Thanks, Jim," Apollo said. "It meant a lot to me that you could be here for it." 

"Well, it wasn't like we had a choice. I mean, both our ships still won't be ready for another couple of weeks. But even if none of this had happened," he gestured to the ships, "I still wouldn't have wanted to miss this. From the first day we met, I knew somehow that you had... something about you; something that told me 'Now here is a guy I can depend on when the chips are down.'" 

Now it was Apollo's turn to blush. "Coming from you, that is probably the highest compliment I could ever receive. To tell you the truth, I never thought I would make it up through the ranks as quickly as I did. So to work with you is..." he shrugged and severely downplayed his feeling, "something to write home about." 

"Will you listen to yourselves?" Sam interjected. "I think I'm going to choke on all the testosterone being emitted between the two of you." 

They laughed again. "She's right," Kirk said. "This is a time for you and Sam to bond, not you and me. To tell you the truth," he slowly walked past them, toward the spot on which Apollo had previously been standing. "You weren't the only reason I came here." He reached the opening and looked out at his ship. "I just wanted to see how my girl was doing." 

Apollo smirked. "C'mon. Let's leave the two 'lovebirds' alone." He guided her out of the bay, leaving Kirk alone with his admiration. 

They got to the quarters assigned to them during their stay at the starbase. Once the door shut and a privacy lock activated, Sam pounced on her husband. "At last," she said between kisses, "you're all mine." She led him, and allowed him to lead her, to their bed. 

Eventually, all articles of clothing were discarded, and they were about to consummate their marriage, when Sam felt Apollo hesitate. "What is it?" she asked. "Is something wrong?" 

"No, no. Nothing wrong. It's just..." he paused, propping himself up and looking into her eyes. "I've wanted to try something with you." She giggled. "Stop that. Don't give me that look. I didn't mean anything kinky. I promise you, it won't be painful, but it will probably be more intense than anything you've ever experienced before." She giggled again. "C'mon, I'm serious. Do you trust me?" 

She stared into the twin suns that were his eyes, contemplating what he said, then she silently nodded and they continued. They developed a slow, gentle rhythm, and she didn't feel anything different, other than feeling wonderful when they joined. He placed his hands on either side of her head, and suddenly, she felt a gentle probe on her mind. It was the same feeling as when Apollo wanted to get her attention with telepathy. He called it knocking on her mental door. She let him in. 

It felt as though a floodgate had opened in her mind. Now, not only was she feeling her own pleasure, she was feeling his as well. The ecstasy was overwhelming; it was as if their emotions had merged into one pure feeling of joy and love. It was intoxicating; she bucked as the emotions crested and washed over her in waves. All coherent thought was lost as she plunged into sexual as well as emotional satisfaction. 

As smoothly as she was overcome by the torrent, it backed off, almost as if someone complained that the music was too loud, so they turned down the volume. _:I'm sorry. I didn't realize that you would be so easily overwhelmed.:_ The voice was inside her head, yet it echoed. 

Then she found herself floating in the air. There were clouds, but no ground underneath her. Her first reaction was fearing that she would fall, but there was no such sensation. _:What is happening to me?: _ She heard herself think. 

_:Whatever your mind perceives,:_ Apollo's voice said. Suddenly, he came into view. Somewhere in her mind, she knew they were both naked in bed, yet when he appeared in her mind's image, he was wearing some form of costume. It seemed to be only one piece. The legs, arms, and sides were black, while the boots and the rest of the costume was red. A large Starfleet insignia was centered on his chest. _:Apparently, you seem to be on cloud nine right now.:_ He flew over to her. 

_:Nice getup,:_ She looked down at her own nude body. _:How come I'm not wearing anything?:_

He smiled. _:You didn't think about what you would want to wear. Your mind just took your current physical state and translated it onto this plane. Of course, I'm not complaining. I think you look just fine.:_

She made a face. _:Of course you wouldn't complain,:_ she responded, but made no effort to "clothe" herself. _:You really haven't answered my question. What have you done with me, or to me, for that matter?:_

He sighed. _:It's a little difficult to explain, but I'll try.:_ He seemed to take a deep breath before continuing. _:Physically, you and I are still together in bed, as you have probably gathered. This is all going on in our minds.:_ She started to ask a question, but he stopped her. _ :Let me finish. I know what you were about to ask. How is it that we're together here?:_ At this point, she noticed that while he was "talking" to her, his lips weren't moving. _ :When I was on Vulcan, Sarek sort of explained the Vulcan mating ritual to me. I know, that sort of thing is a deeply personal subject with Vulcans and normally, they're not inclined to discuss it, but I was... rather persistent. When two Vulcans mate, or bond, their minds meld together. That is why when you hear a bonded couple say 'Parted but never apart', they literally mean it. Each retains a part of the other.:_

He paused to allow what he said so far to sink in. _:Just now, we shared each other's joy. With our feelings combined, it becomes very potent, very intense. I didn't fully know if I could do this. I figured that if it didn't work, we would simply have a wonderful night of making love, if anything about that could be called simple.:_

Sam started to fully comprehend what he was saying. _ :But if it worked...:_

He nodded. _:If it worked, which so far it did, we would share something far more wonderful than a simple night of wedded bliss. You see, we had nothing to lose, and something very significant to gain.:_

Sam quickly picked up what he said. _:What do you mean, so far?:_

_:Well, we're not finished yet. And this by no means is the only time we can do this, although I wouldn't recommend doing this in the heat of battle.:_

_:I should hope not. The bridge crew would stare.:_ She smiled at his sour look. :_I take it that means we don't need to have sex for this... bond... to happen.:_

_:There is no way I can explain it. You will have to wait until we're through to see if this works.:_

Sam was "silent" for a moment. _:And when will that be?:_

He drifted close to her. _:Are you saying you don't like what you're experiencing?:_

_:Not at all. In fact, what I felt before wasn't really too bad, just a little too much at once, plus that I wasn't really prepared to expect anything like that. But now...:_

_:Well, why didn't you say so.:_ He embraced her, and the feeling intensified again. 

_:Ohhh, myyy Gooood...:_ was all she could get out before being swept away again. 

~ * ~ 

When it was over, they lay curled up together. The sheets were all balled up at the end of the bed. Sam opened her eyes, and squinted at the brightness. "Computer, lights out." The computer immediately obeyed. She rolled over and buried her head in his chest. 

"Okay, I will," Apollo mumbled. 

"I didn't say anything but to tell the computer to turn the lights out." 

"No, you told me to make a mental note to shut them off before we turn in." 

"I only thought..." Sam stopped in mid-thought. She pulled herself partly away from him and looked straight at him. 

He gave her a sly grin. "It was no dream. Think about it." 

"But Apollo, how can I..." 

"No. Think about it." 

She suddenly realized he meant it literally. She looked inside her mind. Sure enough, she "saw" something. It was like a tendril of... of whatever thoughts are made of. She couldn't tell where it led, so she followed it. 

_:Hi there.:_ She heard in her mind, and she jumped in surprise. "I see you found it." 

"Wh... what is it?" she asked. 

"Our bond. It worked. It's a subtle telepathic link between the two of us. At any point in time, we can contact each other through the bond. It is a warm reminder of our love for each other." 

"Is it always there? I mean will we always know what the other is thinking?" she asked, concerned. 

He felt disappointment. "Honey, I'm sorry. I know you didn't really know what I was doing or what to expect. If you don't want to be bonded... I understand. I can sever the bond. Don't worry, it's not nearly as painful as it sounds, and you won't go through all that disorientation. You just... won't be aware of my presence anymore." He moved to touch her head to make the adjustment. 

She pulled away abruptly. "No. No, don't. I didn't mean that. I mean..." She framed his face in her hands. "You were very generous to give me this gift. It's certainly something I can always treasure, and nothing I can forget to bring with me. Though you could have told me what to expect." They both chuckled a little nervously. "I am very glad that I was the one you chose to... do this... with. Even now I think about it, and I can feel all the love you have for me. It's like being wrapped up in a warm blanket." 

He took her hands in his. "That's what it's all about. If you need to feel loved, if you need to feel comfort, or if you just want to say 'hi', then all you need do is think about me, and I'm there, no matter where I'll be. Of course, there's a down side to this, too. If you feel pain, then I will feel that pain through the bond, and vice versa. The consolation is that I can lend you my strength to help you through it." 

She thought about it for a moment. "I can live with that." She kissed him lightly. "Now, what if I want a little privacy in my head? I know you can shut me out, and I know that you would never intentionally intrude, but..." 

He laughed under his breath, tracing a finger down her cheek and across her chin. "Believe it or not, every one can learn to guard their thoughts. It just takes a little training. I believe I can handle a little thing like teaching you to put up some type of defenses against uninvited probes." 

She smiled and hugged him tightly. "Thank you." She then gave him intimate proof of her thankfulness. 

~ * ~ 

After two more weeks, the ships were ready for their next missions. The _Enterprise_ and the _Valiant_ were the only ones left in orbit near Starbase 26. 

"Admiral, it's been a pleasure and an honor serving with you again. I'm looking forward to our next encounter," Apollo said, grinning at Kirk's image on the screen. 

"I just hope it'll initially be under more pleasant circumstances. My best to you and your new bride. And Apollo. Take care of that ship this time. You can only be so lucky." 

"I might suggest the same thing, Jim. _Valiant_ out." The connection ended, and the screen's image changed to that of the _Enterprise_. She moved gracefully out of orbit and streaked into warp speed. 

"Mr. Arex, prepare to leave orbit," he said to his navigator. 

Sam was at her station. As they left orbit, she appeared lost in thought. _:Testing, one, two, three. Testing, one...:_

_:Hi, there.:_

She was a little startled by the response. She concentrated a little. _:Sorry. I was just making sure it was still there.:_

Apollo turned and smiled at her. _:The bond isn't going to fade, love. It's not a piece of equipment, either. It's a part of you; as much so as it's a part of me. No need for sound tests, I can hear you just fine.:_

She looked a bit bashful. _:It's just that it'll take some getting used to.:_

_:That's understandable. Just remember, if you need anything, I'm here.:_ He turned to face the screen. "Set a course: 238 mark 4. Engage at warp factor 2." 

"Aye, sir. Warp 2," the helm replied. The _Valiant_ oriented itself toward its new heading, then shot off as the stars around it stretched into rainbow streaks. 


	24. Origins Chapter Twenty-Four

_CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR_

Four years later: 

The _Valiant_ left orbit around Seneschal IX, heading to Starbase 13 for crew replacement. The attempted peace conference with the Daedonites had been a complete fiasco. Apollo had barely managed to get the Federation president out of there in one peace, but their escape had cost him 29 of his best people. When the natives called their meeting to a close by storming the conference room armed to the teeth, Apollo's top priority was to the safety of the president. The planet's atmosphere prevented transport, so they used shuttles to go planetside; that escape was cut off by the Daedonites, so he was forced to teleport himself and the president to the ship. 

Teleporting himself wasn't too much of a risk. However, he could only handle just so much of the discomfort it caused him. It especially took a lot out of him when he took someone with him. As a result, he couldn't return to the surface to help the crewmembers he had down there. They all died, but at least they took some of the monsters with them. 

It didn't take Apollo long to recover. He returned to the surface in a manner that caused the Daedonites to think they were being attacked by a demon. Apollo had descended by flying down surrounded only by a nimbus of blue energy, and a rage in his eyes that the few who saw it would gladly wish never to see it again. With ruthless and cold precision, he cleared the area of attackers, but he could already tell that it was too late. 

The site clenched at Apollo's gut. The last ones to have survived were led by Thelem. They had made it to one of the shuttles and were heading up to the ship when it was shot down. Wreckage and bodies stretched out over the rocky terrain. It wasn't hard for Apollo to tell that no one had lived. He hovered above the ground, the rage remaining in him shaking him violently. Finally, after a minute of silence, a blood-curdling scream tore from his mouth. Every muscle in him was tense as a blast of power erupted from his eyes and streaked upward. 

The ship shook as the blast passed dangerously close. Sam clenched at the command chair as she ordered the ship into an evasive maneuver to avoid getting hit. Then, just as suddenly, it was over. There was a flash of light, and Apollo was standing before her, looking for all purposes as though his eyes and hands were alight with blue fire. His uniform had morphed into the form-fitting costume she had seen him wear so many times before when he had played the cavalry in this manner. Except she could tell from his look and from the feedback from her bond to him that this time, the cavalry arrived too late. 

He withdrew his energy back into him. His uniform returned to its normal state, and with his shoulders slumped in exhaustion and defeat, he walked over to his chair, motioned Sam to remain seated, and clicked on the comm. "All hands, this is the captain. I need a medical team and a salvage team to report to the shuttle bay. Take shuttles to the planet's surface to recover the bodies of our crewmembers as well as our remaining equipment. We leave orbit as soon as you're finished." 

He no sooner straightened when he received a reply. "_Captain_," Sorel said, "_what of the threat of a repeated attack by the Daedonites_?" 

Sam looked up at her husband and saw a vacant look on his face as he muttered flatly, "You'll have no further problems with them. Carry out your assignments. Racer out." He signed out. "Commander Racer," he said to Sam, "please keep the conn. I will be... indisposed. Inform me when we're ready to break orbit." He slowly turned and entered the turbolift, not looking back as the doors closed. She would have followed him, but the rage she felt in him turned into deep despair, and right now, she thought he would probably prefer to be alone right now. 

When they left, she had contacted him as ordered, but all she received was a noncommittal acknowledgement, and half-hearted orders to head for Starbase 13 as soon as the recovery teams returned. She decided that someone should check on the president, and since Apollo was unavailable, and Thelem was dead, it might as well be her. 

She made her way to Sickbay, where Sorel was just finishing his examination of their VIP. "Mr. President, how are you feeling, sir?" 

The president looked up. "As well as I could imagine. That was some wild trip. For a moment there, it almost felt like I was imploding, but the next thing I knew, I was on one of these beds and the Captain had collapsed. Your doctor put him on a bed next to me, but about five minutes later, he struggled to his feet and vanished right before my eyes. Do you have some new experimental transporter that I'm unaware of." 

Her eyebrow went up, and a slight grin played across her face. "You... might say that, sir. Actually, it's the Captain's... unique way of getting around during crisis situations. Trust me, it hurt him more than it did you." 

"I understand. It must be hard to make that kind of decision. The doctor told me that the entire party down there perished. With his kind of power, he could have saved them." 

"He had to make sure you were safe first." 

"I'm aware of that, Commander. Believe me, I feel just as bad as he does. Where might I find him?" 

Sorel maneuvered between the president and the door. "With all due respect, sir, it would be logical if you rested for a half hour more." 

"Nonsense, I'm perfectly fine." He got to his feet and almost collapsed except that the two officers caught him and put him back on the bed. "At least I will be in about half an hour." 

Sorel's eyebrow rose up his forehead. "A wise decision." 

Sam in the meantime had left sickbay. She entered the arboretum, but he wasn't there. Standing there, gazing out toward the stars, she wondered where he could be. She tried finding him through their link, but he had closed himself off. _Doesn't he realize by now that he just makes me more determined to find him when he does that?_ Grasping at an idea, she spun on her heel and rushed out of the room. 

She reached Engineering, where McCormick was busy doing whatever he did to maintain the _Valiant_'s efficiency. "Ah, lass. Ah'm sorry about Thelem. What happened at Seneschal IX was terrible. How is the Captain takin' it?" 

"I don't know, Mac. He's keeping to himself, as usual. But tell me something: if you led a mission where you lost more people than you ever have before, how would you feel?" McCormick lowered his head in silent understanding. 

She walked over to the main console and started pressing controls. Different exterior views of the ship flashed across the two screens in front of her. 

"What in blazes are ye doin', lass? Has Apollo affected ye an' made ye daft?" His question was quickly forgotten as she stopped on one view and enlarged it. 

Apollo was seated crosslegged on the hull between the two pylon struts. As he was encased within the ship's subspace field, he wasn't left behind, but stayed in that one spot. His elbows were propped on his knees, and his face in turn was hidden in his hands. The familiar blue aura of energy that always surrounded him and kept him safe from the vigor of space surged around him now, and it was very likely, Sam speculated, what kept him seated on the hull instead of drifting around. "Wonderful," she said under her breath. 

"What in bloody blazes is he doin' out there?" Mac exclaimed. 

"Don't you see? He's out there because it's the only place he can be where it's totally quiet. When it's that quiet, he can more easily distance himself from everyone." Hurt by this ultimate form of solitude, she didn't add that sometimes it was the only way he could work through his grief. 

Mac turned away and muttered to himself. "Hell, he can get shamelessly drunk and accomplish the same thing." 

~ * ~ 

The shuttle bay doors opened, and Apollo reentered the ship. Sam was in the shuttle bay waiting for him. "Damn you!" She said it with venom in her voice. She clearly saw the puzzlement on his face, but she gave him no chance to respond. "Why do you do this to me? Every time you have a problem, you shut me out completely! I thought we were together in this!" Tears started streaming down her face. "Thelem was my friend, too! Why won't you let me in? Maybe you don't need someone to lean on, but I do, and when you turn away from me, who the hell am I supposed to go to?" 

Apollo suddenly realized that he screwed up again, as he had done before. "Sam, I... I'm sorry. As the commander of this vessel, I always feel that it's my sole responsibility to shoulder the burden of what happens to this ship and its crew. When I get that way, it's hard for me to see that other people need me, that you need me." 

"Yes." Sam agreed, not losing any of the fire in her emotion. "You can be so damned selfish about your grief. Oh, whenever you feel good, you think everyone else should share in the feeling. But whenever something bad happens, you..." 

She faltered, struggling for the words, then picking up when it hit her. "This will sound strange, but when something bad happens, you act so... so selfishly unselfish. You try to soak up all the bad feeling, and hope that no one else feels it. Well, I hate to be the one to tell you, but that way of thinking is wrong. You're not protecting anybody; in fact, when you do that, you actually intensify that feeling and direct it toward the ones who are closest to you. And yes, I know you don't mean to do it, and I don't even think your aware sometimes that you do it, but you do." 

During her speech, Apollo was slowly advancing toward her. When her speech faltered again, he pulled her toward him. She fought at first, hitting his chest and screaming, but he held tight. Finally she gave in and embraced him. Her body shook with sobs as she let it out. There in the loneliness of space, two souls held each other tight and shared their grief for their lost companions. 

~ * ~ 

It was when they left Starbase 13 when the greatest tragedy in Apollo's life struck. 

"Captain," M'ress said, "we're receiving an odd communication. I can't quite place the source." 

"Arex, drop out of warp," Apollo told his helmsman. "M'ress, any sign that it's from a Federation ship?" 

She studied her readings. "No, sir. It's not from a Federation ship. In fact, the translator is still having trouble deciphering it." 

Sam suddenly stopped scanning the area. "Captain, a ship is decloaking off our starboard bow!" 

"What!?" He exclaimed as an enormous dark shape appeared on the screen. They couldn't make it out very well because it was black, but they could make out a rough silhouette from the absence of stars in view. 

Sam spoke again. "We're being scanned. Should we raise shields?" 

"Have they made any hostile gestures?" 

"Well, no, but we don't know who they are or what they'll do." 

"Then we can only hope that the feeling is mutual. The shields stay down." 

M'ress got Apollo's attention. "Captain, the translator has something. The message is audio only." 

He nodded. "Let's hear it." 

She adjusted some controls. "_...assistance. To the transport which we have ceased moving near. We require assistance_." 

Apollo, Sam, and M'ress shared looks. "Alien vessel. This is Captain Apollo A. Racer, commanding the Federation starship _USS Valiant_. As we understand it, you're sending out a call for help. What is it you need?" 

"_We..._" the voice sounded humble, almost embarrassed, "_We have lost our position in space. We require guidance. We believe our directional indicators are not functioning. We detect many lives on your transport. You may loan us one_?" 

Sam shrugged. "Sounds like their navigation system is malfunctioning." 

Apollo agreed. "Actually, it sounds as though they're looking for a gas station to ask for directions." He got a couple of confused looks from his people until he realized they didn't know what a gas station was. "Alien vessel. We could send over one of our engineers to help you." 

Silence for a moment. "_Not required_," came the reply. "_Could your 'Racer' person assist_? " 

"That wouldn't be necessary. We have people more qualified..." 

"_Not required. 'Racer' person is leader, therefore must be most qualified. You may loan us_?" 

Sam had a concerned look on her face. "I don't like it. It stinks of a trap." 

Apollo looked at her disappointingly. "Sam, why do you always suspect people we don't know of foul play? I swear, you'd make a great Chief of Security." He thought about it. "Needless to say, I would probably be the safest person to transport. I can defend myself in a way no one else can." He paused so M'ress could reopen the channel. "Alien vessel. I agree to your terms. I will be aboard shortly." 

"_We are gratified_," was their only response. Then the connection was closed. 

"Well, it looks as though I have a first contact to make. Sam, the bridge is yours." He strode off the bridge. 

~ * ~ 

The first thing Apollo noticed when he beamed aboard the other vessel was that it was dark. It doesn't smell too fresh here, either. Maybe they're having trouble with their environmental system, too. He then saw a dark form move toward him, accompanied by clicking sounds. At first he thought these beings were shapeless, but then he noticed that they merely wore clothing that absorbed light. _Interesting fabric_, he mused. The being brought him to their bridge, where he saw his ship on their screen. 

Another being approached them. "This is the Racer person?" 

_Good... at least my translator works here._ "Yes, I am Captain Racer." 

"We need your energy." It motioned Apollo to follow him. 

"I get it. You mean you require my assistance." 

"No. We require your energy. We read your transport and detected your unique energy. We need it to sustain ourselves until we get to our space. You will assist us." 

Apollo thought the request a little rude, but played along. "Just how far is your home?" 

"We have moved very much to get here. It will take several of your years to get there." 

_They've got to be kidding._ "I'm sorry, but I have other assignments. I can't go with you." 

They conferred with each other for a moment. "You will come with us." 

Apollo was getting frustrated. "No, I told you I won't come with you." He activated his communicator. "_Valiant_, this is Captain Racer. Prepare to beam me back." 

The beings then moved their hands over their controls. Suddenly, a thin beam of light reached out to the _Valiant_. At first, Apollo judged it to be a simple laser, but the beam then punched through the hull just behind the navigational deflector. The next thing Apollo saw was a fireball in space before him as his ship exploded. 

Apollo knew an exact second before his ship was vaporized that Sam was going to die. His thoughts raced toward her even as the _Valiant_ was blown into its constituent atoms. A mental shock wave tore through the link with his wife as their bond was violently broken. All control vanished from his features. "_NOOOOO!!_" he yelled at the now empty space in front him. 

"Now you will come with us," the being stated. 

"_NOW YOU WILL GO TO HELL!_" Apollo roared, his voice echoing ominously through the ship. As his aura flared up, his uniform changed into his costume again, and his eyes burned with a murderous rage that changed them from blue to red. He shot the nearest alien, but instead of it bursting into flame or being disrupted, it absorbed his energy with a sound that could have been taken as a sigh of relief. It glowed as an obvious effect of absorbing the energy. Apollo's eyes widened at this. "So that's what you meant, is it? Well, we'll see about that!" He grabbed the alien he just charged before it could move out of his range. He drew back his hand and let go with a blow that nearly took the being's head off. As it died, the glow disappeared. 

The others tried to gang up on Apollo, but they never expected such a rage to engulf him. His anger was fueled by the fact that as the _Valiant _exploded, the bond he had with Sam was violently severed. His mind shut down, and now he was little more than a living weapon, acting entirely on instinct. 

In a short time, he had killed nearly the entire crew, leaving who he suspected to be the leader for last. This surviving alien was backing up until it squeezed into a corner. The look on its face was universal for every sentient being: pure unbridled terror at the prospect of staring its imminent death in the face. 

Apollo managed to bring some semblance of intelligence back into his thoughts. "Why," he hissed. "Why did you blow up my ship?" 

"You were going to leave. We needed you for us to survive. So we ensured that you wouldn't leave." 

Apollo stood there for a moment, glaring at the alien. He then did something even more terrifying than what the alien had already seen; his face split into a very evil grin, and he laughed in a way that sent chills through the air. "How very appropriate." The tone in Apollo's voice was low, yet intense, as if his very speech could finish what he started. 

In a lightning-fast move, his arm snaked out and caught the alien by the throat. Lifting it off its feet to bring it up to his eye level, he brought his face up close until it was a mere inch away from the alien. He let the blue fire of his eyes rake coldly across the face of his prey. "The very source of survival for you... is now going to kill you." 

With the finality of that statement, Apollo squeezed. He felt the alien's windpipe closing off, and he heard bones pop and crack in its neck. Its eyes bulged out of its sockets, and still he squeezed. When his fist was nearly closed, the being's body dropped to the ground. Apollo then dropped the head that rested on his fist to join its former owner. 

Apollo staggered backward. Suddenly the fire left his eyes. and the sapphire glow returned. He stared down at his gore-laden hands, then at the viewscreen that showed nothing but debris floating outside. "What have I done?" he said quietly to the room full of dead bodies. 


	25. Origins Chapter Epilogue

_EPILOGUE_

He checked the rest of the ship. It had only held two dozen of the aliens, and he had killed them all in his blind rage. He teleported outside to make sure that the scene on the viewscreen was real and not an image created by the aliens to deceive him. Confirming that it was truly real, he let out a howl that made his scream on Seneschal IX pale in comparison. The scream, naturally, could not be heard in space, but his aura brightened to a point where it would have eclipsed even the _Valiant_'s explosion. Starbase 13, which they had just left, registered it, and their scientists felt, for that moment, that they had discovered a new star. 

But it had only lasted a moment, and the last survivor of the _USS Valiant_, spent from his rage and expulsion of energy, returned to the alien's ship. He used what energy he had left to vaporize their remains. Then he half-fell into one of the chairs as darkness overtook him. 

~ * ~ 

When he reawakened, Apollo took a day or two to study the ship until he had a basic grasp of its functions. He then opened communications. "Captain Racer... to Starbase 13." His voice was flat and low, completely lacking in emotion. Throughout the study of the ship, he would be struck with another moment of rage, and he would scream again; as a result, he was also hoarse. "Effective immediately, until further notice, I am placing myself on inactive service, and I am taking a leave of absence for an indefinite period of time. 

"My reasons for this are the logs from the _Valiant_, which were ejected automatically prior to her destruction, as per Starfleet regulations; the logs from the vessel of which I have currently commandeered and claim as per right of salvage; and finally, personal reasons which I am unable to give at this time. 

"Unfortunately, these logs will be sealed in Federation archives, per my final orders. Only the president of the Federation and myself will have access and authorization to read these reports, and they will remain sealed until, and unless, I find it appropriate to return." 

He paused for a good minute, constructing what he had to say next. "I regret that in my current frame of mind, I am unable to continue my duties. It has been an honor and a privilege to serve in such a grand organization, and it is my hope that, in the event of my return, I am able to continue serving. 

"I wish condolences to be sent to friends and next of kin of each and every crew member aboard the Valiant who died without a purpose. It is among my final orders, and my sincerest request, that these condolences be carried out in the truest form of my command. To my remaining friends, goodbye. You will not likely see me again in your lifetime." He signed off, and with almost mechanical movements, he operated the controls. 

The ship turned gracefully in the direction from which it had come and cloaked as it simultaneously shot into warp speed. 


End file.
